Holy shit! I’m in his book. I think it’s me in the book. I’m fairly sure it’s me.
Today after work, I really wanted to read more of Fife’s book, but I knew if I went home there would be a house full of people, and I wouldn’t get a chance to read. So, I’ve come to the DCA, ordered a Pimm’s and Lemonaide, and secured a spot out on the patio with a plan to get through Fife’s book on the Kindle.
In Chapter Two a young woman in her early twenties with fair skin and long red hair appears. (Of course, he said it much more eloquently than that.) She’s a slave from the north and the protagonist – a military man who is also a big landowner and part of the government (or whatever it was back then) – falls in love with the girl several years his junior.
Next, situations are played out that are scarily similar to the antics Fife and I got up to in Greece. But I don’t want to say too much because when the book is published one of my bloggy woggy followers might accidently buy the book, recognise the description and think, ‘Ah, this is that Fife author NTFI talks about.’ So, I won’t go into the details.
I’ve skimmed most of the novel, and I need to read the whole thing properly, but I’m pretty sure he wrote me into the book. The girl also has lots of traits that are similar to my own — but in a slave girl sort of way.
I’m meeting Fife for drinks on Thursday. What do I say? Just pretend I didn’t notice? What does it mean when someone puts you in their book? And there’s some sexy-ramantic scenes in the book too. Is that wishful thinking or is it just plot and narrative and character. This just makes things all the more confusing.