Welcome to Teaser Tuesday, where I share snippets of new and past releases and works-in-progress, and sometime cajole author friends into doing the same.

Well, the big news in the Hein house is that tomorrow I go in for eye surgery. I can’t express how excited I am about this. I’ve been told for years that I’m ineligible for surgery, but with changing technology – and the expertise of a very experienced surgeon – I’m finally able to get it done.

I’m not expecting miracles. My eyesight is very poor and there’s irreparable nerve damage from the illness I’ve been suffering these past few years. But any improvement is a bonus and if I can replace these coke bottle thick glasses with something finer or be able to wear contact lenses again, I’ll be ecstatic.

First eye tomorrow then the next eye in a couple of weeks. Which also means that the next three weeks of Teaser Tuesdays will have been written and scheduled in advance. So no up-to-the-moment news but I promise to fill you on my progress as soon as I can.

Because I knew I was going to have this break, I’ve been working on the plot of my next book rather than leaping in like I normally would. To keep my writing muscle exercised and because it was stuck in my brain, I’ve also been working on a short story. A short story that thinks it’s a novella and will have to be toed into line at some point. Or maybe not. I’ll have to play that one by ear.

The working title is Me and Mr Jones. The characters are lovely. I’m really enjoying their company. They, however, will not enjoy mine once I throw my planned spanner into the works.

He he. The joys of playing writer god!

This is first draft unedited stuff, so please forgive messiness.

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With a sigh, she set her phone down, turned up the volume on the telly and pulled her blanket closer. On the screen, a droolworthy Chris Hemsworth as Thor offered Natalie Portman a cheeky grin. Amber gawped as she always did when faced with such manly perfection. What she’d do for a piece of that.

She watched the movie to its end, snuggled under her plush blanket on the couch, half dreaming of her own Thor. She thought she’d had one, but David had proved more Loki than Thor and she’d booted him onto the rubbish tip of cheater boyfriends a few months ago, where she hoped he was composting stinkily with all the other rotters.

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Poor Amber. She’s in for a rollercoaster ride but as I write romance, you can be assured it’ll all work out in the end.

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