Alex Bell - fantasy author

On the next leg of our journey, we have now finally left Flagstaff. I say finally because the Monte Vista Hotel was, to be frank, quite horrible in a number of different ways. A lot of famous people - from John Wayne, to Humphrey Bogart, to Anthony Hopkins - have stayed there in the past. If it’s good enough for Bogie, and all that . . . But perhaps the place was nicer in his day.

It transpired that the rooms pictured on the internet were the refurbished ones. Our rooms were most decidedly not refurbished (even if it was the one Spencer Tracy reportedly stayed in). When I went into our bathroom upon arrival, the toilet bowl was full of smelly wee that someone had neglected to flush away (never mind actually cleaning the toilet). I go on holiday for several reasons, but smelly wee ain’t one of them. Nothing spoils a holiday faster than some stranger’s smelly wee.

But moving on from that - the main problem I had with the hotel was that it absolutely scared the wits out of me. I don’t believe in ghosts as such, but I do believe in the possibility of them, especially in a place like that. It was like something directly out of The Twilight Zone. And if any hotel was really haunted, it was this one. There was all this ancient dark wooden furniture, and creaking floorboards, and strange mirrors, and rusty hinges on the doors, and scary posters of girl-wonder Shirley Temple looking all smug and curly. . .

When the five of us went out for dinner, I suppose we all wound each other up a bit with ghost stories, so by the time we returned to the hotel my thoughts were veering towards wondering if I would survive the night, and so on. It didn’t help when the elevator came down to the lobby with two little girls clinging to their father and sobbing because they were too terrified of the hotel to stay the night. Kids can sense evil, y’know. I was a bit on edge by the time we got up to our floor. Perhaps that was why, when a large tattooed man burst suddenly out of the room next door to ours, I . . . well, sort of screamed in his face. He was very nice about it though.

I did, however, survive the night. Even if I did spend much of it sitting up in bed and peering owlishly into shadows, in search of ghostly figures, or horrifying Shirley Temple apparitions.

Now, we are staying in Monument Valley in a brand spanking new hotel. This is the view from our balcony:

Nice, eh? A very definite improvement on last night even if, mere minutes after our arrival, a storm blew up, knocking out the electricity and water supply. They got them back up and running eventually though.

All in all, this place pleases me tremendously. I may very well refuse to leave.

Well, perhaps not stranded as such, but I am in a Marriott in a little town called Kingman when I’m supposed to be in Flagstaff by now in the Monte Vista.

This morning we went to visit a little ghost town called Oatman. http://www.ghosttowns.com/states/az/oatman.html This was the highlight of my trip so far. I liked Las Vegas, but a person can only take so much of all that glitz. Clark Gable spent his honeymoon with Carole Lombard in Oatman. And if it’s good enough for Clark Gable then, by heck, it’s good enough for me. We had lunch at the haunted Oatman Hotel where the walls of the bar area were entirely covered in dollar bills. We worked out that there must have been several thousand dollars worth there.

After having a wander around, we set off along Route 66 for the three-hour drive on to Flagstaff. We’d been on the road for a while, and I was sat in the back, happily engrossed in Best Served Cold when, suddenly, the car went over a stone and then started making this suspicious rattly noise. We pulled over, and confirmed what we all dreaded - we had a flat tyre. Not a big deal, usually, but no one wants to get a flat tyre when the view from the side of the road is this:

Not only that, but we hadn’t seen another car for a very long time (not counting the rusty, abandoned crashed one we spotted halfway down the cliff). And none of us had any mobile signal whatsoever. Mild panic ensued. Especially when, for a horrible few minutes, we thought there was no spare tyre. Finally, through a gargantuan group effort, we discovered a tyre shaped thing underneath the car. It took another lengthy period to actually get to it, because you had to lift up the drinks holder inside the car and then unscrew the floor, geez, it was like some sort of Chinese puzzle box.

In the meantime, a lovely American family came along in their car and stopped to help us. We did look quite helpless and pathetic, with all our luggage piled up on the side of the road. This is one of the reasons why I love America. Everyone always seems so friendly and ready to help you. It took about an hour to jack up the car and get the spare tyre on but they stuck with us and didn’t leave until we were all set to go. Before they left, they checked our other tyres. This was fortunate as it turns out that there’s a bubble or something (hey, I ain’t no mechanic) in one of the front tyres that makes it unsafe to drive very far on. They said we’d need to get a new tyre at the nearest town.

In the meantime, my Mum was almost killed by a jumping cactus. Well, not almost killed as such, but the prickly little thing attached itself to her leg, and it looked quite horrible. Luckily the American ladies helped us out with that too. Jumping cactuses. Who knew? My brother’s girlfriend pointed out that bad things come in threes. We went to get back in the car, and instantly discovered the dreaded third thing. It was the Ding Dongs. We’ve wanted to try one since watching Transformers. All over New York and Washington we hunted last year, trying to find this elusive chocolate but to no avail. Finally we located a packet in Las Vegas, and had them in the car with us to sample later. Unfortunately, in all the panic and commotion, someone had put the Ding Dongs on my seat before folding the top part down, effectively squashing them flat. They’d also melted, seeing as they’d been in the car in the searing heat for over an hour.

Once we were on the road again, we attempted to salvage the Ding Dongs from their packet, but this endeavour turned out to be what can only be described as a complete debacle. A fair amount of melted chocolate mess was involved, and we were finally compelled to throw them away when we stopped at Kingman to try to get a new tyre. Unfortunately, it turns out that the tyre place we stopped at doesn’t have the tyre we need. Hopefully it will be there at 8am tomorrow morning. Otherwise we may be stuck in this place for some while. And I want to get on to the haunted hotel at Flagstaff, not to mention the white water rafting in Colorado.

Tomorrow I am going to America for the better part of two weeks. We start off in Las Vegas for three nights, then we’ll be road-tripping it. Highlights will include visiting the Grand Canyon to see what all the fuss is about, and white water rafting in Colorado.

Having watched 21 recently (card-counting film with Jim Sturgess), I feel that as soon as I sit down at a gaming table, I will have the almost irresistible desire to lean back in an overtly casual manner and cross my arms behind the chair . . . Fortunately I intend to do most of my gambling at the slot machines. I played the slots in the casino onboard the ship we cruised on last year. It was the first (and, so far, only) time I’d played them, and I won the jackpot on the I Dream Of Jeannie machine. All these masses of quarters came pouring out, and I had to get a second bucket to carry them all, and everyone gathered round to watch, attracted by the ching ching ching noise. It was great. My agent, however, tells me that this does not always happen when you play the slots. Hmm, I have to say I’m not too sure about that. I can’t help thinking that I will win the jackpot again. And if I happen to spot another I Dream Of Jeannie machine, then I will be sticking to it like glue.

Whilst we’re in Las Vegas we’re also going to do those crazy scary rides at the top of the Stratosphere skyscraper. I’ve never backed out of a ride yet but, having seen the pictures, I do have plans to get very drunk after these ones. Or possibly before. Perhaps before and after, just to be on the safe side.

I’m not entirely sure what the food is going to be like on this trip. When we go to Disney World in Florida there is always plenty for me to eat because the parks cater for vegetarians. In “real” America, not so much. During the New England road trip we did, I ate mostly mozzarella sticks. And twinkies. Now, I like mozzarella sticks and twinkies as much as the next person but, after two weeks of it, my taste for them diminishes somewhat. I also tend to skip breakfast when I’m on holiday because I don’t eat eggs unless I know they’re free range. So, whilst the rest of my family piles on the pounds, I will probably come back somewhat thin. An occupational hazard of being a vegetarian is that you do tend to lose weight on holiday. But perhaps I’ll just make up for it with the American-sized desserts . . .

Anyway, I now have to go pack. But I’ll be back in two weeks. Unless I get dragged off by a Laurence Fishburne type for card-counting; or I plunge to my death from one of the Stratosphere rides; or get washed away during the white water rafting. In which case, I won’t be coming back at all.

Yes, you heard right - Jasmyn is now in a teacup. Available in all good kitchenware stores now . . . Oh no, hang on, it’s not in all good stores now because there is, in fact, only one Jasmyn teacup. Only one Ninth Circle teacup too, come to that. My Mum gives me a present on the day one of my books come out (yes, she really is that cool). When The Ninth Circle came out last year she gave me a little desktop Mephistopheles.

For Jasmyn, I got a specially commissioned, one-of-a-kind, Jasmyn teacup. I have a bit of a thing about teacups. I blogged here about the magic one I have. And I can tell already that my Jasmyn teacup is going to be a magic one too. Here are some pictures (although they don’t really do it justice):

How. Beautiful? And how perfect? Black roses, castles, knights, swans . . . it has everything. For anyone who’s interested, this teacup was designed and created by the wonderfully named Bethan Lloyd Worthington at http://www.bethanlloydworthington.co.uk/. Man, I wish my name was Bethan Lloyd Worthington . . . Her work bears more than a passing resemblance to the renowned Kustaa Saksi - creator of my fantastic Gollancz covers.

But, not only do I have a Jasmyn teacup, I now have a Ninth Circle coffee cup. Behold:

I’m not entirely sure how I’m going to use them yet. The thought of pouring tea into them horrifies me a little. I don’t want to stain the cup inside. But I’m thinking I might, perhaps, use them to hold M&M’s when I’m writing. After that they will be safely relocated back to the special cupboard for the special cutlery. I do, after all, have a Siamese cat who . . . well . . . breaks things. Rather a lot. So the teacups can’t be left out in the open. But they can be stared at adoringly through the glass windows in the special cupboard. In fact, I’ve spent the better part of the last day doing just this. These two cups are now my most treasured possessions. They even top Erin and Abu, and that is seriously saying something.

But the best part? There is going to be a Lex Trent teacup. Oh yes, there is. And a Lex Trent 2 teacup. The first Lex Trent one is being worked upon as we speak. Already, I feel about ten times more excited about the 3rd September release date for Lex, simply because of the cup. I also feel that, when devising a new project from now on, I’ll be thinking - what will this book look like as a teacup? Is that wrong? Well, if it is, I’m afraid I just don’t care. These teacups are wicked cool. There is no other description for them. Take it from me - it is worth being a published author, simply for the teacups.

Yippee, the momentous day has finally arrived! Almost, anyway. Technically Jasmyn comes out on Thursday but I have a feeling it’s out on some bookshelves already. Besides, I’m going on holiday at the end of the week and might run out of time, so I’ve decided to blog about it now.

Look at the cover. Is it not perfect? Is it not the most beautiful, gorgeous cover you ever saw in your life? Hats off to Kustaa Saksi - that man sure can create. Seriously, the book is worth buying for the cover alone. I am so flippin’ chuffed that of all the artists I might have got, I got Mr Saksi. He. Is. Da. Best. If we are ever in the same country, let alone the same bar, I will positively ply him with beer (or any other alcoholic beverage he would care to name).

Anyway - I’m very excited about this book. Although I dearly love The Ninth Circle, Jasmyn is more the sort of thing I would like to repeat. It’s also the sort of book I would seek out to read. It’s much more me, if you will. I thoroughly enjoyed writing it. In fact, this book came to me much easier than most. Perhaps because I knew exactly what was going to happen almost from the outset. The thing practically wrote itself and, for that reason, only took three months to do. I’ve had a smug little gloat over the good reviews, and turned my nose up in disgust at the only (so far - but give it time) bad review I’ve seen.

Although all authors are probably influenced to some extent by other books they’ve read, I’m not usually consciously aware of this when I write. Jasmyn is different because I am very much aware of the books/authors that in some way inspired or influenced me when I was writing this book. The main one is Peter O’Donnell writing as Madeleine Brent. The Madeleine Brent books are historical romantic suspense, whereas Jasmyn is more of a supernatural romantic suspense, but in terms of characterisation and plot twists, I think Jasmyn is a definite product of the love I have for those books. Of all the ones on my bookshelves, they are the ones I’ve read over and over again, even if they are a bit of a guilty pleasure.

The other influence, so far as the initial set up goes, is Cecelia Ahern with P.S. I Love You. Jasmyn, too, starts with a woman who has been unexpectedly widowed. But then the spooky stuff starts.

Margeret Mitchell and Alexandra Ripley (authors of Gone With The Wind and Scarlett), and Deanna Raybourn with her fantastic Silent series were also influences at the back of my mind, but probably not to the extent that you can see it in the book.

Most of the books I’ve mentioned are romances, of course, and I wouldn’t class Jasmyn as a romance. But having enjoyed the aforementioned books, I wanted to do something that had a romantic element but was also a supernatural mystery. That’s what I set out to do with Jasmyn, and I was really pleased with how it turned out in the end.

But the best thing about Jasmyn being published? It’s not the legions of screaming fans I expect to turn up at my doorstep at any moment, nor the worldwide renown that will surely be mine in the not too distant future. It is having an excuse to buy these for the second book party I will be having next month:

Not only are these shoes ridiculously beautiful, but they are entirely vegan. It’s almost too good to be true. No animal bled to death for them or anything. Seriously, If I had known about these shoes in advance (never mind the matching dress I bought in America), I would have written this book sooner. Jasmyn - thank you very much for the shoes. And for the party I will be having as soon as I return from Las Vegas (unless I come back broke and destitute, in which case, er . . . the party’s off.).