Showing posts with label Calvin Wade. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Calvin Wade. Show all posts

Sunday, April 26, 2015

"Kiss My Name" by Calvin Wade

ON SALE for 99p
Kiss My Name
by Calvin Wade



Calvin Wade is the author of Kiss My Name, which is ON SALE for only 99p from 26 April to 2 May on Amazon UK. You can read my interview with the author below. You can also read my earlier blog post about Calvin's first book, Forever is Over.

Description
On the eve of his wedding day, a young woman, Flo, armed with a double barreled shotgun, arrives at Simon Strong's front door. She is there to avenge the mistreatment of her best friend, Zara. Simon begs for mercy, claiming he has no knowledge of anyone called Zara. What has happened to Zara to create such an extreme reaction from her best friend?
Kiss My Name follows the lives of several characters from childhood in the 1980s to adult life in the twenty-first century. As several of them gather in Blackpool, for a Stag Do and a Hen Do, mayhem ensues. Has Simon cheated on his wife to be and will he make it to the church at all?

Excerpt
FLO – June 2012
This was the moment. This was the house. A modern, mid-terraced property, in the heart of suburbia. Still gripping the Ithaca double barrelled shotgun in my right hand behind my back, I pressed the doorbell and then immediately returned to my two handed grip. It sounded busy inside, looked busy too, even through the frosted glass door you could see figures moving to and fro.
“Who’s hidden the front door key?” I heard a male voice ask. It could have been his voice, the voice of my intended victim and the anger that I had not been able to contain, rose up in me once more.
“It’s in the kitchen!” replied a calming female voice. I knew it would not remain calm for long.
“Whereabouts?”
“Next to the oven.”
After a delay, I could hear the keys jangling towards me, then being placed and turned in the lock. My grip on the shotgun tightened as the handle was pressed and the door pulled open.
“Simon Strong,” I thought to myself, “you deserve absolutely everything that is just about to head your way.”
The door opened. I was all set to spring my surprise, but then I looked at who was standing before me. It was a man, just. A young man, barely out of adolescence with greasy, long blond hair and wearing a T-Shirt with a lipstick stained skull emblazoned with “Bullet for my Valentine”.
“Please tell me you are not Simon Strong,” I pleaded.
The young man chuckled.
“No, don’t worry, I am not the groom! Are you a work friend of Mum’s?”
“Is your Mum marrying Simon Strong?”
“She certainly is! Tomorrow at 1pm, he will finally make an honest woman of her!”
“That’s what you think,” I thought, “That’s what you think!”
“Is Simon here now? I have something for him.”
“Not want a word with Mum?” asked Rapunzel in drag.
“No,” I replied as sweetly as I could muster, “I really want to meet Simon Strong. I have something for him.”
My finger gently ran along the trigger as I spoke.
“OK,” son of Simon said tossing his locks like an 80’s rocker, “I’ll get him.”
He disappeared behind the door, leaving it ever so slightly ajar. I heard him shout up the stairs.
“Dad, there’s a woman here for you. Think she’s brought you a present.”
That’d be right.
I heard the noise of heavy feet on stairs, then the door re-opened and finally, I was confronted by the enemy.
“What a gorgeous day!” he said with a broad smile, “hope they have the forecast right for tomorrow!”
I looked him up and down. Simon Strong was certainly not what I had been expecting. Zara had painted a picture of an irresistible Lothario, a man that every woman would fall head over heels for. I for one was not inhaling those pheromones. This man was strange looking, almost ugly, overweight with a receding hairline, black hair with flecks of grey, reddened cheeks and wearing a paint splattered collared t-shirt and light blue jeans cut off above his knobbly knees. Not exactly Brad Pitt, more a trim Johnny Vegas.
I needed to check it was not a case of mistaken identity.
“You are Simon Strong?”
“The very man!”
His cheerfulness was grating. I must have just stared silently in disbelief.
“Are you a friend of Nicky’s?” he said after a pause.
My moment had arrived. This was my cue. I pulled the shotgun from behind my back and pointed both barrels at his crown jewels, one barrel each.
“I am a friend of Zara’s, Mr. Strong!”
I enjoyed saying, “Mr. Strong”, it made me feel like a seductive Russian spy in a Bond movie.
Simon Strong, like the coward I already knew he was, put both his hands up in a surrender motion.
“Whoa! Hang on a minute! Who the bloody hell is Zara?” he asked, feigning confusion.
“Forgotten already? How convenient! It hasn’t even been a month.”
“I don’t know any Zara’s!”
I prodded forward towards his knackers with the tip of the gun. Simon Strong took half a step back, keeping his hands in the surrender pose.
“Let me tell you, Zara has not forgotten you. And you know why, don’t you?”
“NO!”
“Because you left her a little reminder of your fumbles in the Guest House, didn’t you, Mr. Strong?”
I could tell he was ready to confess. Simon Strong wiped the gathering beads of sweat off his forehead.
“Can you put the gun down?”
“No.”
“Please put the gun down and I’ll explain exactly what happened in Blackpool.”
“No. Turn around, Mr. Strong.”
“What for?”
“Just do as I say and turn around.”
I said it coldly, like I was experienced in armed combat. I wasn’t. Inside I was trembling.
Whether Simon Strong sensed my anxiety, I’m not sure, but he was reluctant to comply.
“I’M NOT TURNING AROUND SO YOU CAN GUN ME DOWN IN THE BACK OF MY HEAD!”
He was speaking louder, probably to attract the attention of everyone else within the house, but for whatever reason, no-one was coming.
“Simon, turn around, right now or I promise you I’ll blast your bloody balls off!”
That did the trick! He shuffled around slowly so that his back was facing me.
“Now drop your pants!”
“What?”
“You heard me, Simon…DROP YOUR PANTS!”
Simon Strong was an irritating bugger. Once again he refused to do as he was told.
“I am not dropping my pants!”
“Yes, you are!”
“What if one of the neighbours sees me?”
“Simon, I have a double barrelled shotgun pointing at you! Believe me, what Mrs. Jones at Number 28 thinks, is the least of your concerns.”
“Seventeen.”
“What?”
“Mrs. Jones lives at seventeen. She’s partially sighted. I’m not worried about her.”
Smug git. He was making my job easier.
“Drop those pants! I have a very itchy trigger finger and if you don’t drop those pants, this second, I’m going to scratch it.”
Simon Strong undid the buttons of his crappy, cheap jeans to reveal some old, pastel coloured boxer shorts with a small, age created hole, in the left cheek. There was no accounting for taste, but I could see no legitimate reason why anyone, let alone Zara, would be attracted to this man.
“Happy now?” he asked.
“No. Drop the boxer shorts too!”
“Bloody hell! Why does everyone get so much pleasure out of humiliating me?” he moaned.
“What comes around, goes around,” I replied, feeling quite proud of my spontaneous intellect, “now drop ‘em!”
“I swear on my children’s lives I have never met anyone called Zara!”
Liar!
“Drop ‘em NOW!”
Finally, the boxer shorts came down to his ankles. A hairy, unattractive, dimply bottom was revealed.
“Zara, you stupid fool!” I thought to myself. It would be like mating with a sasquatch.
I started to realise I was taking too long. Standing in the middle of a terraced block pointing a shotgun would draw people’s attention to me like a compass drawn to magnetic north. I was here to accomplish a mission and now was the time to act. I was primed and ready to fire when I looked again at the disgusting, hairy backside.
“What the hell is that?” I questioned.
“What?”
“That tattoo, on your arse.”
“Long story.”
“Ironic,” I thought, “how ironic!”
I would genuinely have loved to hear that long story, but I had deliberated too long. This man did not deserve a second chance. I took aim at that tattooed backside, closed my eyes, pulled my sweaty finger back onto the trigger and fired.

Review
As with Calvin's first book Forever is Over it is a book that is very easy to read and very difficult to put down! With so much insight to the characters I could visualize the complete story in my head like a movie. The only complaint I would have is that it did have to come to an end! I had come to know those characters so well I didn't want to leave them behind! I hope you've started the next one Calvin.......

Interview With the Author
Hi Calvin, thanks for joining me today to discuss your new book Kiss My Name.
Which writers have influenced you the most? John Irving, Amos Oz, and a list of Czech writers especially Josef Skvorecky.
What age group do you recommend your book for? Sixteen plus, although ages 30-55 would probably identify with it most.
What sparked the idea for this book? I had an initial idea of a lady turning up at a man's house the day before his wedding, armed with a shotgun. I built the story around that.
Which comes first? The character's story or the idea for the novel? With my first book, Forever is Over, it was the character's story. With Kiss My Name, it was the idea for the novel, so I guess it differs. With both, I have told the story from several different characters perspectives which I feel helps you identify with them more. I personally feel the set of characters in Kiss My Name have stronger personalities than those in Forever is Over.
What was the hardest part to write in this book? In Kiss My Name the hardest part was the ending. In Forever is Over, the central character, Richie, was always going to die, that was revealed in Chapter One, but with Kiss My Name, there was never going to be a clear an ending. The ending in Kiss My Name has already sparked some debate but thankfully the majority seem to like it.
How to you hope this book affects its readers? Forever is Over was a laughter and tears book with a weepy ending. Kiss My Name is more light-hearted. It has sad aspects to it, but overall, I build the humor up and hope the book ends with the reader having a smile on their face.
How long did it take you to write this book? I spent around six months slowly building up the characters and then six months writing flat out, so twelve months in total.
What is your writing routine? I start a book slowly to let me get a feel for the characters myself, so I only write a couple of hours a day (and sometimes not at all) for the first few months. When I was writing flat out towards the end, I could spend twelve hours a day writing and if I wasn't writing, I was thinking about it!
How did you get your book published? At this stage, I have just launched the ebook via Amazon's Kindle Direct Publishing.
What advice do you have for someone who would like to become a published writer? With the likes of Amazon's KDP, anyone can be an author these days. That does mean, however, there are thousands and thousands of authors competing with you for an audience. I think these days you need strong sales and marketing skills as well as skills as a writer. My advice would be to develop a story that has unique qualities to try to set it apart from your competitors and build up an interest via social media.
Great advice, Calvin. What do you like to do when you're not writing? I have been married to Alison for sixteen years and we have two boys Brad and Joel who are 13 and 11. I like to watch the two boys playing their sports and spending time with my wife and our friends.
What does your family think of your writing? My wife and boys are very supportive, as are my extended family. My sister, Mum and Dad are always encouraging their friends to download the ebook!
Please tell us a bit about your childhood. I was brought up in a village called Aughton in Lancashire, England (this was the setting of Forever is Over). I had a sister, Lisa who is eleven months older than me. My Dad ran a painting and decorating firm and employed around a dozen men and my Mum did his secretarial work. My Mum also did amateur dramatics which I guess is where my interest in writing developed from.
Did you enjoy school? I went to Ormskirk Grammar School which was a very old fashioned school in many ways (the boys had a playground which the girls were not allowed on!) Some of the teachers taught in a very old fashioned manner so, although I enjoyed the friendships I made, I did not enjoy the lessons very much at all!
Did you like reading when you were a child? I have always enjoyed reading. Alfred Hitchcock's Three Investigators series was a particular favorite.
When did you first realize you wanted to be a writer? I have always had ambitions to be a writer, but they were fuelled by a small piece (monologue) that I wrote for BBC Radio in 2006.
Did your childhood experiences influence your writing? Very much so. I think this is evident in both my books as, after the first Chapter, they begin in childhood and work forward.
Do you hear from your readers much? What kinds of things do they say? I interact with my readers a lot of Facebook and Twitter ... thankfully the ones who interact are the ones who have enjoyed my two books!
What can we look forward to from you in the future? I intend to release two books next year. A non-fictional sports related book in late May 2014 and a fictional book in the second half of the year.
Thanks so much for chatting with me today, Calvin. I wish you all the best with your future projects.

About the Author
Calvin Wade was born in Ormskirk, Lancashire in 1971. He studied Economics at Manchester Metropolitan University, graduating in 1992. On graduation, he worked in a record shop for eighteen months to fund a backpacking trip around the world.
Since returning from his travels, his working life has been in the mortgage industry, working for Alliance & Leicester, Yorkshire Building Society and Birmingham Midshires. During this period, he has run five marathons, three in London and one each in Liverpool and New York. His first London Marathon was run in a fancy dress house where he was narrowly beaten by an apple, a banana and a pear.
In 2006, he wrote a five minute monologue for BBC Radio Five Live entitled, "I Hate Football", which was performed by Johnny Vegas. It first aired in June 2006 and was repeated on a Christmas Day special. Forever is Over is his first novel. He has just released his on his second book, Kiss My Name.
Calvin Wade is married to Alison and has two sons, Bradley and Joel.

Links



Wednesday, April 9, 2014

"Forever is Over" by Calvin Wade

Forever is Over 
by Calvin Wade



Forever is Over is Calvin Wade's first book. You can also read about his newest release, Kiss My Name, in another blog post. Kiss My Name is FREE 26-30 April. 

escription
Set in Ormskirk, Lancashire, Forever Is Over is an equilateral love triangle focusing on life, love and precious time. Richie Billingham, a married father of two in his early thirties, is attending a party held in his honour and organised by his wife, Jemma. He has terminal cancer. Through the eyes of several characters, we are taken back through the lives of Richie and Jemma.
Richie is from a large middle class family. His father is a gambler, his younger brother Jim, a constant irritant and his older sister Caroline provides an unusual insight into her romantic world.
Jemma is from a working class, one parent family. As her mother is far more interested in partying than parenthood, Jemma establishes a strong bond with her sister, Kelly, until one day their worlds are torn apart.
Kelly was Richie's first love. The idyllic, countryside setting where Richie and Kelly used to escape they called their "Sunny Road". When Kelly disappears, Richie is forced to move on, but several years later, not knowing that Richie is now married to her sister, Jemma, Kelly writes a letter to Richie, stating her intention to return and suggests they rekindle their romance.
The novel was initially inspired by the song "Sunny Road" by Emiliana Torrini. The book was written to appeal to both males and females. Fictional lives are mixed with real life events. Football, gambling, sex, violence, relationships and growing up all form part of the plot.

Excerpt
Chapter 1
Jemma – The Beginning Of The End
I really wanted him to open the door but he wouldn’t. Perhaps he smelt a rat, I’m not sure. Perhaps he recognised some of the cars outside – I’d told them to park down the road and walk up, but it was a wet and windy night and some women would rather spoil the surprise than spoil the hair they have just spent hours putting into place.
“Go through”, I said to him, trying to coax him in.
“Can you not open a door?!” he asked, in a tone that implied he may have clocked my unusual behaviour. I was not in the habit of standing on ceremony! Anyway, Richie was having none of it, so I made a grab for him, whilst simultaneously trying to push open the double doors. As I opened the doors, I was greeted by about a hundred of Richie’s nearest and dearest, party poppers at the ready, for when his frail but smiling face emerged. The DJ, sensing his moment had come, pressed play and the room was filled with Elbow’s “One Day Like This”. It was no good though, multi-tasking had never been one of my strong points and as I pushed the door open, Richie had wriggled his skeletal frame out of my grasp and somehow managed to summon enough strength to run as fast as his legs could carry him, out the exit and back towards the car.
“Just give me two minutes”, I explained apologetically to the anxious crowd, as I turned on my heels to go after him. Richie’s Mum, Dot, made a move to the door too, but I wasn’t waiting and shot off after him in a Shaggy & Scooby styled run.
Back in his healthier days, Richie would have reached the car in a flash, but once I was outside, I knew he was not going to escape me, as his run had become a determined stride, still oblivious to the howling winds and rain that only Gene Kelly would want to be out in.
“Richie, what are you playing at? Everyone’s here for you?”
I loved every single pore on that man’s skin, every ounce of flesh, every strand of hair, every eyelash, every tooth, every finger, every toe, but he was as stubborn as a mule when he wanted to be.
“I’m not going back in there”.
“Yes, you are.” I replied without sympathy.
“Jemma, I’m not”.
Richie’s Mum was outside by now, but thankfully, for once, she kept her distance.
“Richie, people have travelled a long way to get here. They’ve arranged babysitters, booked hotels, bought dresses, had their hair done, your Helen, even looks like she’s had a boob job especially”.
Richie didn’t laugh. Sometimes when he was trying not to laugh, you could see the sides of his mouth curling upwards, this was not one of those times.
“Jemma, I can’t do it. I wish I could, but I can’t”.
“Yes, you can”.
Tears started to well up in his eyes.
“I can’t face it, Jemma. I can’t face a “Pity Party”.”
“Come on Richie, once you get inside you’ll enjoy it. You know you will.”
“Jemma, these people are here because I’m dying”.
“They are here because they love you.”
“No, they are here because I’m dying. What am I supposed to talk to them about?
Where are you going for your summer hols, Dogger? Majorca, great. I’m going to the crematorium, it’s going to be bloody roasting, but don’t worry, I don’t really feel the heat or at least I won’t when I’m dead!!”
I was going to rush in with a sentence that began with, “Stop being so bloody stupid…” and then I was going to let my anger and annoyance complete the sentence for me, but for some reason, I stopped to think. Richie was dying, we all knew that. I desperately wanted him to see all his family and friends, some of whom he hadn’t seen for years. I wanted him to see them whilst he was still well enough to enjoy the night, but I was not the one who’s life was slipping away. If it was too much for him, it was too much for him, I shouldn’t push it.
“OK, Richie, just listen to me for a minute.”
“Jemma, I don’t want this”.
“Richie, just listen. Don’t interrupt, just listen…”
“Shit!”, I thought to myself. “SHIT!”
I’m not one for swearing out loud, I very rarely swear, but, at that very moment, my brain was turning the word “shit” over and over like food on a barbeque. With good reason, I was wanting inspiration to arrive like an express train, but it had been delayed by leaves on the line. This was supposed to be my moment. Our moment. I wanted to say something wittyor brilliant. Something inspirational. Something that would make him see things in a totally different light. Problem was I had nothing planned, no start, no middle and no ending. I’d just have to blag it.
Here goes nothing.
“Look Richie, your Mum and I arranged this for you. As you know, only too well, I am from a weird family. I’ve had “stepdads”, “stepbrothers”, “stepsisters”, “stepcousins”, I’ve had more steps than a John Buchan novel, but your family’s different. From the moment we met, I loved you, but I was always jealous of you. You had a proper family. A Mum and Dad who adore you. Your Mum is an interfering old bat, but she’s prepared to stand outside in the pissing rain in the middle of November for you. You’ve got a brother and two sisters, all from the same Dad and you all get on. You’re like the bloody Waltons!
That’s not all. You’ve got friends who you’ve known since infant school. People you would do anything for and would do anything for you. I wish I didn’t have to say this, but these are friends you may never get the opportunity to see again after tonight.
Now, if you want to miss out on an opportunity to see these people because you think they are so tactless that they’ll talk about their summer holidays, then let's get in the car and go home. But we both know the real reason they are here. They’re here because they know you’re dying and it’s destroying them like it’s destroying me. They are here because they want to have a wonderful night with a wonderful man. They want to celebrate your life with you and not at your funeral when they can’t hug you and kiss you and tell you how much they love you. They….”
“That’s enough, Jemma.”
Richie took a tissue out his pocket. Blew his nose, wiped away a tear and walked towards me. I wasn’t  one hundred percent sure whether he was going to slap me or hug me, but he wrapped those skinny little arms around me and held me tightly.
“I’m sorry, Jem. I want to be brave, I want to be positive, I want to live every moment like it’s my last, but it all doesn’t seem real. Nights like tonight, however well intentioned, just remind me of what lies ahead. I remember being on Sales courses at work and you’d get these really confident “life coaches” who would tell you to assess the problem, then gauge its importance from one to ten, with ten being death. This problem is a big, fat ten, Jemma. I’m dying. Our kids won’t have a father next Christmas. I won’t see Jamie score his first goal and I won’t be there to walk Melissa down the aisle on her wedding day. I so wanted to do that. You won’t believe how much I wanted to do that”.
Richie broke down, sobbing and sobbing as all the fears and anxiety that had been built up since the diagnosis came spilling out. Richie’s mother, Dot, a woman who would not normally go swimming for fear of getting her hair wet, shuffled towards us like a rat that had been drowned and revived several times over.
“Everything alright, love?” she asked from just further than slapping distance away, which is what half of me felt she deserved for asking such a stupid question. The other half understood though that she needed to be there for Richie and I managed to keep quiet, paving the way for a response from her son.
“Everything’s fine, Mum. Jemma’s just persuaded me to go back in and see everybody. You go and get yourself dried off , Uncle Billy would have a field day if he saw you looking like that! Get yourself dried off and we’ll follow you in, in a minute.”
Dot gave her son a re-assuring smile and headed inside, looking every single day of her sixty three years. She didn’t deserve a daughter-in-law like me. She deserved better. She only ever saw the good in people, especially Richie. I don’t believe all parents have a favourite child, but Dot’s was definitely Richie and she was losing him. I’m sure people learn to live with loss, but I knew in those moments neither Dot nor I would ever learn to live with the loss of Richie.
Intertwined and emotionally battered, Richie and I went inside and the party began………
He said he hated every minute of it, but he said it with a huge smile! It was a fabulous night. A fabulous night for a wonderful man. Two months have passed since I lost him and I have yet to manage twenty four tear-free hours. I don’t care. If I shed a tear in his memory every day for the rest of my life, I will go to my grave a proud woman.
This is our story. The story of Richie Billingham and Jemma Billingham (nee Watkinson).
Enjoy it, learn from it and more than anything, never take your health for granted. Don’t just seize the day. Seize the moment. Every single one.

Review
When I began to read this book I did not know what to expect or even if I'd bother with it after the first chapter. What became quickly apparent to me was how relatable the characters are and it is the strength of the characters that drew me in. All different in likeable and unlikeable ways, true to real life!! I enjoyed the way you get to view the story through the eyes of the different characters it kept things interesting to say the least! This book made me laugh out loud, reminisce about my teenage years, be content in the present and be thankful for tomorrow. It is light-hearted, full of good humour and yet, such as life, is a reminder to all not to take tomorrow for granted or indeed the here and now. I laughed, I cried and most of all enjoyed reading this book immensely!! Just fabulous.

About the Author
Calvin Wade was born in Ormskirk, Lancashire in 1971. He studied Economics at Manchester Metropolitan University, graduating in 1992. On graduation, he worked in a record shop for eighteen months to fund a backpacking trip around the world.
Since returning from his travels, his working life has been in the mortgage industry, working for Alliance & Leicester, Yorkshire Building Society and Birmingham Midshires. During this period, he has run five marathons, three in London and one each in Liverpool and New York. His first London Marathon was run in a fancy dress house where he was narrowly beaten by an apple, a banana and a pear.
In 2006, he wrote a five minute monologue for BBC Radio Five Live entitled, "I Hate Football", which was performed by Johnny Vegas. It first aired in June 2006 and was repeated on a Christmas Day special. Forever is Over is his first novel. He is also the author of Kiss My Name.
Calvin Wade is married to Alison and has two sons, Bradley and Joel.

Links