
Waiting in the Wings: A new book by Stevie Turner
Available to pre-order on Amazon HERE
Publication date November 30th 2016
The guilt I feel at being unable to grant Dot her wish is overwhelming. As Dot’s health deteriorates more towards the final chapters of her life, I take on the role of carer. I find the only way to bring her out of her perpetual misery is to reminisce on past events by showing her old family photographs, and by helping her to remember holidays and happier times. We look back without anger and sometimes with a lot of laughter, getting to know each other better, raking over the past, and talking more than we have ever done. The process helps me, a middle-aged woman, understand the perils of ageing that I might one day face, and also the struggles that elderly people suffer on a day-to-day basis while stoically attempting to maintain their independence.
Waiting in the Wings is a true story, told in flashbacks and in modern-day often humorous conversations with my mother.
We always seem to have a pet of some sort as I am growing up. Dot never likes budgies to be in their cage, and so whichever bird we have at the time is usually flying about freely. One particular green budgie, the star of the ‘My Pet’ story competition, is a perfect mimic. John often sits it on the end of his finger and teaches it words that budgies should not say in public.
“Shit.” Says John to Bombhead.
“Shit.” Says Bombhead to Dad most emphatically in his high-pitched bird voice.
“Where’s the beer?” Dad lifts his finger so that Bombhead is on eye level.
“Where’s the beer?” Bombhead squawks and fluffs his feathers.
Dot comes out of the kitchen and glares at Dad.
“Will you stop teaching that bird to swear!”
“He’s teaching me.” John strokes the bird’s soft feathery chest. “I never knew these words until I met him.”
Bombhead’s cage door is always open, and he swoops and flaps over our heads at regular intervals. My grandmother Nell refuses to sit in the room if Bombhead is out, and I am under strict instructions not to open his cage door until she leaves the house (if I hadn’t disobeyed Dot I would never have won that writing competition).
Bombhead is adventurous. Bombhead is daring. One day we find him swinging by his neck in the fringes of a lampshade, and I save him from certain death. He sits on my shoulder and screeches out his gratitude in my ear. However, fate is not kind to the little bird. Dot often washes out clothes in the kitchen sink, and one day even with her rubber gloves on, she feels that something is not right as she scrubs away at Dad’s shirt. On taking out the shirt and holding it up, she is horrified when a soggy green feathery lump falls out onto the draining board. There is Bombhead, dead as a dodo, looking up at her with two baleful black sightless eyes.
Worldwide link to Waiting in the Wings: http://bookShow.me/B01M3MOEPV
About Stevie:




























Thanks for featuring my book, Sue!
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My pleasure, Stevie 🙂
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Reblogged this on Stevie Turner, Indie Author. and commented:
Much humour abounds in ‘Waiting in the Wings’, because Mum taught me very early on that without a sense of humour we are just miserable old buggers…
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Sue, Thanks for featuring Stevie’s new book. It reads like a winner on a subject I think a lot of us can identify with.
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It will be out soon, Bernadette 🙂
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Fantastic promo post Sue and Stevie. This book sounds right up my alley! I have a few books awaiting me on my kindle already from Stevie, but I’m adding this. Congrats. 🙂
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Thanks, Debby 🙂
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