Regular visitors to the blog will know that I belong to a group called Book Connectors on Facebook where authors and bloggers work together collaboratively. See #BookConnectors on Twitter too. Today, I’m delighted to bring you an extract from No Wonder by Emma Cooper, an author member of the group.
An Extract From No Wonder
I threw another stone into the river and watched as the globules of water shot up as the weight of the stone sunk, and stole their place in the world. I threw another and felt a sense of camaraderie with the helpless drops of water, as they were evicted from the unity of the river and thrust upwards without warning.
Where the hell is he?
Leaning back on my elbow, I held my hand above my eyes to shade them from the sun. I looked around at the blossoming park, trees bowing reverently under the persuasion of the wind and birds swooping effortlessly from branch to branch. If it weren’t for the booming inside my head, I would imagine this picture of countryside ideal to be quite a calming influence.
Sitting back up, I reached into my bag and pulled out my diminishing packet of co-codomal, glancing at my watch as I screwed off the top of my bottle of water with my teeth. Frank had been gone for almost twenty minutes and as much as I liked surprises, I, not being the most patient of people, preferred them to be immediate.
With the aim of an eighteen stone darts player, I threw my drugs of choice to the back of my throat and took a hefty swig from the bottle.
Blimey, my arse is numb.
I screwed the top back on the bottle and plonked it beside me. Shuffling from cheek to cheek, I idly picked a daisy from the blanket of grass. He loves me? I fiendishly plucked a harmless petal, he loves me not, he loves me? He loves me, oh who cares? I discarded the spoiled flower and lay back on the grass, covering my eyes with my forearm. I relaxed slightly as the sun warmed my aching body, the gentle breeze caressing my skin, the calming lapping sound of the…
What the fuck?
I felt a warm wet splodge of something of unknown origin land on my chest. I pulled my arm back from my eyes just in time to see a shady looking Magpie making a hasty retreat. No way I was going to say ‘good morning’ to that thieving little bastard after it had just shat down my cleavage.
Where was my changing bag when I needed it? I scurried around for something to cleanse myself with, silently cursing myself for being a woman and not a mother for the weekend. I pulled out the only absorbent item from the depths of my bag, one solitary tampon.
I unwrapped the little gem and holding it in my teeth, gingerly attempted to pour some mineral water onto the tarnished area.
My shoulder blades shot forward in spasm as a great heavy flow of water exploded from the bottle. I held the tampon to eye level. Bugger.
Only a medium flow one.
Oh well, I would have to make do.
With haste, I began pushing and pulling the little white bullet between the great crevice between my large, white boobs. I looked up to see two astonished, actually, disgusted would be a better word, middle aged faces dressed in uniform beige, taking a leisurely stroll beside the river. I stopped mid plunge.
‘Morning!’ I smiled in salutation. ‘Beautiful day!’ I remarked enthusiastically. The gentleman put a protective arm around his companion as they scuttled off with their heads down.
I pulled the tampon, now treble its original size (fabulous invention) and a distinctively pooh colour, from its crevice and scouted about for a nearby bin. How could there not be a bin in a park this tidy? I looked about for signs of any sort of waste collection facilities and finding none, sheepishly checked for signs of spectators.
Excellent, no signs of beige dressed Theatregoers.
I pulled my arm back and prepared to launch my torpedo, with the dexterity of a baseball player, in to the river. I threw with all of my might and watched as it flew from my grasp in a perfect arch and landed or rather hooked itself to the folded wing of an elegantly gliding white swan.
My hand flew to my mouth in horror as a watched the beautiful bird sashay towards a family of ducks; unaware of its repugnant cargo swinging from its wing by a little blue string. The ducks, needless to say, fled with disgust.
About Emma Cooper
Emma Cooper is a Teaching Assistant, successful writer and mother of four. Successful because by Sunday of each week, she has written 3500 words (100 of which will be re-written in a state of wine fuelled, self deprecation on Saturday night) has clean pants on and has not caught e-coli from the bottom of her fridge. She has three loves in life: reading, writing and her family, oh, and wine, pizza, films… maybe not three then. Maths is not one of her talents.
No Wonder is her fifth baby, with which she gained more weight during its pregnancy than the other four put together … truly a labour of love.
Emma describes her debut novel ‘No Wonder’ as more com-rom than rom-com, but that isn’t to say that she didn’t cry and fall in love with her characters whilst writing it.