Thursday, 20 November 2014

Who's Afraid of Virginia's Mustache? @HitLitPro @MovemberUK @Movember pic.twitter.com/HNXerUkWRH

When things got dark and hairy Mo Sista Virginia was a lighthouse.
Some things my friends are stranger than fiction. My bearded lady this week is none other than pinnacle of intellectual writers - Virginia Woolf.

Now, I must confess that her style was a bit high brow for me. I did read "To The Lighthouse" a few years ago when I was considering applying to join a Novelists' Association as a virginal novice supplicant. I knew my lack of lit-cred could be a problem. Her book is said to be the prime distillation of modernist genius. It's about visiting a lighthouse, or not, or why.  I realised quite early that I was a thicko or at least a neo-post-modernist material girlie philistine.  I knew I needed to improve myself and battled on with "Mrs Dalloway". It was all about a woman planning a party. Dear me - it was so so so deep into party planning. In the end I shelved the Literary Association ambitions and learned to self publish. I knew my place.
Mo-Sista Virginia is on the far left posing as an Abyssinian Royal


Although not educated enough to really understand her books or even my own split infinitives, I got to like the woman. She had an outrageous sense of fun. She was also involved in one of the first ever Movember stunts. In 1910 Virginia took part in the famous Dreadnought hoax with a group of other intellectuals. Posing as a group of Abyssinian Royals they bluffed their way onto the flagship of the Royal Navy, HMS Dreadnought. All manner of ceremonies and gun salutes were played out in their honour. Virginia herself sported a full beard. Now - that's my sort of high brow! Me -  I just wander about in Walmart with a false mustache. Sad thing is - no one notices. 

To be serious, she was a troubled soul who took her own life. Let's not forget that the Movember charity is also very involved with mental health issues. SO......

DOWNLOAD OUR BLOODY BOOK. You'll get a good read and do some good.

http://www.smarturl.it/LetsHearItForTheBoys





Emma Thinx: When lovin' is a must, sistas got a stash.

Sunday, 16 November 2014

Mustache On The Orient Express @HitLitPro @MovemberUK @Movember #Charity #book

Agatha on 30th Movember 1926. 
Agatha Christie was one the world's greatest crime writers. From Miss Marple to Hercule Poirot she created some of the most enduring detective heroes of literature.

Far greater than anything she wrote was the story of her own disappearance on December 3rd 1926. This remains the greatest of her mysteries. Many learned books have been written about what may have happened. It is known that her car was found abandoned in Surrey, a county of southern England. Ten days later she was uncovered at an hotel in Harrogate, Yorkshire - a point hundreds of miles to the north. She was staying there in disguise. In the meantime the entire British police service and the general public were looking for her. The first ever aerial search in Britain was carried out over the area where her car had been found.


David Suchet as Hercule Poirot
Photographic evidence that has just come into my possession has revealed the true reason for her disappearance. Only now can I expose the facts. Yes - she had grown a mustache. The date of her disappearance is significant. She had grown her new friend during the month of Movember. At the end of the month her friends and publishers knew that her adoring public would never accept her new persona. In those days sistas had fewer life options. Her marriage was on the rocks and her mustache was her only friend and link to the true love of her life - Hercule Poirot whom she had met on the blank page of life in 1920. It was classic Pygmalion complex. Her mustache was a homage to her famous detective. Rather than lose the mustache, she ran away to Yorkshire. It was one place where she could hope for acceptance.


But why Yorkshire? Come on folks - it's just so obvious my dear Watson. Harrogate was a watering hole of the Brontë Sistas, who published their original stories and poems under male pseudonyms. This was a place where scribe-sistas routinely took on the personas of men.  It's all so clear when  a great detective translates the clues. There will be a meeting of everyone involved in the dining car later but you guys reading this, need not attend. 

Orient Express dining car. Her clue could reveal a detective's identity



A dull thud broke the silence at Calin Towers
In the meantime a mysterious thud brought the maid running out into the hall at Calin Towers. Fearing that yet another murdered aristocrat had tumbled down the stairs it was a fantastic surprise to see an Amazon parcel filled with the tactile real book editions of "Let's Hear It For The Boys". Now I can get on up and get out there on the trail. Let's jam a copy under a few noses and see the results. If a picture is worth a thousand words it follows that a few thousand words are gonna be worth a picture with some celeb' who secretly longs to meet me. Schimples.

Buy our bloody book etc ....... 

Emma Thinx: Tall stories show their legs in shorts.








Saturday, 15 November 2014

We've Got Our Litz Bitz Out For The Boyz - @Movember @HitLitPro #Charity #book


Feel'em Friday eh? If I had one like this I'd do it daily.
Open your saucy red top for some pun in the SUN
That's done it. More cheeky headline slut-smut from the mistress of mischief. Yes - all us girls in the fab Hit Lit Pro team have got their litz bits right out there for all those boys who read the UK's only great national paper for red blooded work hardened males and those who love them - THE SUN. 

My American readers may not know and love THE SUN as well as we do in the UK. To give you a flavour, today is "FEEL' EM FRIDAY" - a medical feature encouraging men to unzip and slip their commanding strong yet sensitive hands around the old block and tackle to check it out for health issues. Oooh! I may have to stop in a minute to calm myself down.
When Kim heard she was in the same edition she dressed to impress

The fact is that THE SUN has featured the Hit Lit Pro "Let's Hear It For The Boys" Movember men's health charity collection. So far they are the only national to give us a plug. So - come on all you posh journalists and the BBC - you've got the same equipment down there! You get up to the same stuff as the hunky SUN readers. 
It says buy the book and help to save lives !!!!

Just think - we're all in the same edition as Kim Kardashian. I hope she checks out her bits too. I sure check mine out but so far THE SUN has not shone on me. If we're talking pound for pound value in female flesh I fancy my chances.

Look - forget all the hype and Emma sauce. We all need to be aware and not ignore things out of embarrassment or pride. This month it's for blokes but we all know it's all year for all of us. Girls - check him out - you know he just wants to share. 

And buy our bloody book......etc




Emma Thinx: Cancer hates a sentry. Shoot first. 

Wednesday, 12 November 2014

Emma's Spare Tyre Tummy Award for Saint-Jean d'Angely

You can take away a pizza but you can't take away the quality and value of Les Jacobins.
Followers of my spare tyre restaurant experiences will realise the width of my taste and indeed the widening effect of my selfless research into the ecstasy of eating. I am prepared to sacrifice my own perfect form to bring you the fullest insights possible. When not savouring foie gras and monkfish I cavort among the fried breakfasts and the fish and chips.

Today I turn my attention to pizza. The French love it. The English love it. It seems that everyone in the world has some kind of pizza format. The Italian pizza seems to have found its familiar form when tomatoes arrived in Europe in the 16th Century thanks to the Spanish colonisation of the Americas.This means that the Roman Empire rose and fell without ketchup. It also means that "Bloody Mary" queen of England 1553 - 1558 could never have added juice to her vodka. (She also would not have had any vodka because no potatoes had arrived from the Americas). Writing/researching a blog makes up for my complete lack of historical education.

If I go out for a pizza I'm looking for a big hit. I want flavour and savour. Like everyone I have used the pizza chain main street places. I've always found them clean and adequate but never special. Recently I went to the French town of Saint-Jean d'Angely to dine with friends. This was not my first time at Les Jacobins. At my last visit the place was at least fifty percent full of English diners. The menu has a large choice of beautifully cooked pizzas, the normal range of Italian dishes, salads and a very generous steak and fries option. There is a decent choice of wine by bottle, pichet, carafe or glass. There are desserts and everything you could ask for to make a wonderful convivial evening. 

I had the 30cm Clermentoise pizza and Oscar downed the Charentaise. The cost of each unit was about £8 - $13. The entire meal with wine, desserts and coffee was about £50 -$79 for three persons! However, we did not eat there just for the price. The service is great and friendly. The ambiance is welcoming with a real independently run family feel. It sure ain't any kinda chain joint. There is an outdoor terrace for warm summer evenings. If you are holidaying in the Charente-Maritime region and fancy a take-out meal this is the place to come. The staff speak English if needed.

Les Jacobins is situated in the heart of the Saint-Jean d'Angely, close to the ninth century Royal Abbey. The town centre has a medieval authenticity and is worth a visit in itself. So - Les Jacobins receive an Emma's five star Spare Tyre Tummy Award for value and excellence. Great job guys. 

Emma Thinx: You are born a pizza base. Get the toppings you want.




Wet Kissing Hairy Hunks In The UK - Moustaches for #Movember @RUSHHairBeauty @HitLitPRo

RUSH to show off my book
Vanity, thy name is Emma. Today was salon day. Beauty creating fingers pampered my follicles. Anyway - grey is closer to blonde than my brunette ever was. I'm maturing towards the target of my true self. 

I have wonderful hairdressers at the RUSH Hair and Beauty Salon in Southampton. These guys are like personality heart surgeons. You go in as a tousled tramp and come out femme fatale. Good job I had an old ASDA carrier bag in my pocket to protect my new goldilocks from the latest Atlantic gale.

We are now 11 days into Movember. In our house things are getting hairy and it's time for a snog report. I've always loved a good snog. An interesting fact is that unfaithful men and women will have extra sexual intercourse with the betrayed partner (due to increased arousal stimuli)  but withdraw from kissing them. It's obvious really isn't it. Kissing is far more intimate and - well - the other stuff is just shameless lounging by the gene pool with a spreading warmth of wine in your belly. Oooh - writing about kissing brings out my inner sun.

So - when the touch of true love gets hairy - does the emotion keep flotion? My response is that the old boy still snogs up fine. His response is that it pushes bristles up his nose and loses the moment. I tell him that orgasm is a sneeze in the soul for a woman. He tells me that in that case, for a man, it's a runny nose.

That's why only women can write romance.


Get the book on Amazon Worldwide - all proceeds to Movember

Emma thinx: If it's right, the erogenous zone is you. 




Monday, 10 November 2014

Taunton Literary Festival Book Fair

I explain to Candy Bright my interest in male physiology
Recently I was reading a guru scribe. I'm beginning to feel like the old lady in the song who swallowed a guru. She swallowed the guru to catch the guru but I don't know why she swallowed the guru. Perhaps she'll write....


This particular guru was explaining to me that any writer who used the expression "It had started to rain/boil/dance etc" was unworthy of their scribe-sista badge, author-pride epaulets and keyboard panties. Such expressions are the mark of the amateur, an all together lower creature.
Oscar's work is so heavy that it takes two poets to hold a slim book

So it was that as I arrived in Taunton for the Literary Festival book fair it started to rain. I saw it start. Yes I did.  The car suddenly became a mini submarine in an episode of the Blue Planet. Oscar tried to sound like David Attenborough by explaining "Here in the deepest of deeps, biologists are starting to identify thousands of gurus no man has ever read."

Oh yes - it rained. At the hall everything was fine and welcoming.
Paul Tobin shows off his "Flash Words" collection.
Truth to tell, the rain kept the event more or less punter free. Well, they're an awkward lot anyway! Far better to stick with fellow scribblers. I bought and swapped a heap of books and met some great literoids. It is just amazing what is out there beyond my own intergalactic marketing empire. I've got books to read by Paul Tobin, Zoe Ainsworth-Grigg,Victor Godrich, Howard Lewis, Paul Mortimer and Sinéad  Gillespie. I wanted to get one from Candy Bright but I've already got them.  All you guys stand by for blogs and reviews.

Oscar did a short reading with the Juncture 25 poetry group. Last time he spoke in public was a court appearance for parking. The beaks weren't impressed by his use of yellow line breaks. He did better this time - well, no £60 fine but I'm not sure if the dog was that interested. Oh yes - there was a lovely waggy dog. Novelists archive this kind of fun for rainy days.
All human life is there. Should keep me quiet for a while.

I had a convivial time chatting to old comrades and meeting other writers. Oscar had the chance to explain his Movember hairs and demonstrate to a young punter how to locate his prostate. We got out of town before the police arrived.

Thanks for having us in Somerset guys.
Things got hairy with my CIA Engineer

While I've been writing, a gorgeous young bearded guy came to fix the burglar alarm. He's in full Movember mode including his chest(!) and doing his bit for men's health. I couldn't miss the chance to get a snap with Paul Doherty of CIA Alarms. He was a great sport and took his embarrassment as part of his professional duty.  With CIA the customer is always right.

Emma Thinx: Digital authors don't do hard sell.








Friday, 7 November 2014

#AlexFromTarget Goes Canine pic.twitter.com/tztvTfGb8q

You can call me Alex
OK - this is true. A teenage girl in Texas sees a hot guy in a Target store. She gets a picture of him and sends it to her friend. Somehow it goes viral in a way that makes Ebola seem like evolution in slow motion. The world goes into a frenzy of joy, lust and greed. Alex from Target is the hottest commercial property on the planet. They're making a video game and branding cosmetics in his image and name. Ghost writers are queuing to write his life story. Offers of film stardom.....blah blah blah. Even French TV knocks President Hollande off the top of the News to cover the story. 
. Viral Alex It's a dog's life at the checkout


OK - this is true. A romantic novelist in France sees the cutest ever dog at a restaurant. She takes a snap and puts it on her blog. She waits. Let's see the true power of the internet. Believe me - this pooch had real tight balls and wasn't afraid to walk around with them sticking out. You don't get that in Target.




Emma Thinx: Pursuit of the trivial is a game called business.