“So let’s get this straight,” she said. “Exactly why are you writing this blog?”

“Well,” I replied, “I’m obviously doing it to serve mankind selflessly, support endangered species and reduce global warming. I also hope one day to be invited to write a blog for Cutesy Kittens Weekly.com

She gave me another of those looks. I know when I’m pushing my luck too far.  “Fess up,” she said.

I sighed. “Ok. I want to promote my web site and books shamelessly so that I become an overnight worldwide writing sensation, get my debut novel immediately shortlisted for the Mann Booker and get a knighthood for services to literature.”

“Same as everyone else then,” she said.

“Yeah, pretty much,” I replied.

“OK, she said. “Let’s start with the novel.”

“Vicious,” I said.

“No, she said, I was trying to be helpful, actually.”

It was my turn to look exasperated.

“You misunderstand me. The novel is called ‘Vicious,’ I said.

“Odd title,” she replied.

“It’s partly about the long dead Punk Rocker Sid Vicious,” I explained. “At least, it’s about a rather strange woman called Tolly who is still in love with him and is convinced he’s going to reincarnate to be with her.”

“Uh huh,” she said, looking sceptical.

In for a penny, I thought. “Well, she fixates on a young man called Henry. Only, Henry’s got a girlfriend, Laura and Tolly decides Laura must be Sid’s dead girlfriend Nancy Spungon reincarnated. So she’s obsessed with getting rid of her.”

“I can see that could be really interesting,” she replied.

“Ahh, but it doesn’t stop there. Laura sees invisible winged creatures and is convinced she is pregnant with the second coming of the Messiah.”

“Now you really have my attention,” she said. “Where can I read this?”

“Well, Perriwinkle, I can see why you would be interested, you being an invisible winged creature yourself. You will be able read an extract here on the book page of this web site next week, but for the full story you’ll have to wait for publication – I’m planning for  next year.”

She was silent a moment. Then without any warning at all she hit me hard on the back of the hand – with the point of the star on the top of her wand. It really hurt.

“Ow!” I said.”

She hovered right in front of my nose and with a really angry look in her eye she said, “Mr. Forester. If you ever disclose my pet family name again you and me are finished. Are we clear?” My first instinct was to correct her grammar. But I calculated that this might not quite be the optimal time for an English lesson. So I just nodded. “So let me hear you say my professional name please,” she continued.

“Yes, Aurora,” I said, as humbly as I knew how.

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