2006 - 2007
I started writing
this in the summer of 2006, after watching the first few minutes of the film,
'Transporter II.' My story is nothing whatsoever like this film, but the film
gave me the inspiration to write a story about a bodyguard, and no, I've never
seen Witney's film either. I sat up the same night I got the idea and
wrote the whole outline for this novel.
* * * * *
notorious rock and film star, back in the late 1970’s and early 1980’s. She was
forever in the media and not always for the right reasons; yesteryear's Paris
Hilton. The world was at her feet and she kicked at it with all her might.
Since the death
her husband and baby, ten years ago, she’s psychologically and physically
damaged and lives as a pathetic recluse in the South of France.
who killed Samantha’s husband and baby, is out of prison and looking for her,
he wants to finish what he started. Samantha knows she needs protection
urgently, and against her will, she is forced to take on a bodyguard.
Pierre is tough and tactless and speaks before he
thinks. He is a control freak and a perfectionist in all the things he does. He
is also a bitter and lonely man after two failed love affairs some years
is asked to
protect Samantha, but there is a problem, he loathes this woman and everything
she ever stood for. He is eventually persuaded to take on the job by a high
authority figure and engages the help of some old military friends to capture
may not like who he’s protecting, but he will do the job properly.
Things are tense
and problematic at first, Pierre and Samantha have many arguments, one in
which he accidentally hurts her. Then he finds out some very disturbing
things about her past; abused as a child by her adoptive parents, abused by the
showbiz world, and abused by all the men she has ever known, except her
husband. He now wants to put things right for her.
soon finds out
that Samantha is sensitive and sweet underneath her cocky and tough exterior.
Looking after her is like looking after a little girl and he finds her ways
endearing. She isn’t the bimbo he thought she was and she has a wicked sense of
humour too. The two of them become allies and friends, as the plans unfold to
trap Jeffrey, and Pierre
begins to fall in love with the woman he once despised.
Jeffrey is put
out of the way, Pierre
hangs around, but considers that he is too old and has nothing to offer her. He
doesn’t want to admit how he feels for fear of rejection and spoiling their
Samantha trusts and
two things she seldom gives to anyone, especially men. But she’s been closing
out the world for so long, that she doesn’t realise how she does feel for
him until much later on. She doesn’t want him to leave, he moves her in ways in
which no man has ever done so before, not even her beloved husband. Pierre makes her feel
content and happy and has made her want to start living again. With him by her
side, she feels safe and as though she could let go of the past, but she
doesn’t know how to relate to him how she feels.
The two of them
going through a push-pull relationship, getting close and then gently pushing
the other away, like two moths dancing around a flame. Both are in despair
until Maria, Samantha’s trusty old housekeeper, decides it’s time to intervene.
it is make or
break time; someone has got to make the first move and declare their love for
the other, before it’s too late. Samantha decides to grab life by the horns and
practically throws herself at Pierre.
* * * * *
finished, 'The man with the child in his eyes,' I queried four agencies with
it, finding out, afterwards, that one of them didn't even do fiction anymore. I
hate the querying part, it is boring and tedious, and I gave up and carried on
writing. But there is stuff I want to change with this, and then I am going to
seriously start querying this novel again, as I think it is worth it.
Samantha, was so very easy to do. I gave her many of my own traits to deal with
life, both good and bad. I made her a recluse and it was obviously a big part
of the story. I am a self-made recluse, a social misfit; I only want to be with
people when I want to be with them and I don't like being with too many people
at any one time. I guess I have been like this since I was very young. I always
used to think that it was other people shunning me for some reason and I didn't
understand why. I do understand it now, it was and is my own doing; I only want
to give myself to others when I feel like doing so. But, if I choose someone as
a friend, which I very seldom do, that friend is my friend until the death,
unless they betray me in any way, then they are dead to me. I don't like people
choosing me and hanging onto my coattails, it annoys me and makes me feel
I have always loved my own company, my solitude, right from I can remember. I
have always been happy to do the things that I could do on my own, like my
writing, and when I was younger, drawing and painting, sewing, and most of all,
reading. Samantha was my perfect excuse for writing how I, myself, see the
world a lot of the time.
When I did
Samantha's memoirs and told how she felt rejected and dejected by the Hollywood crowd, I could
empathise with her, I could
really feel her disappointment, as this has happened to me too. Nope, I'm not
claiming that I've ever been in that kind of world, but I have been held to
high esteem and had more 'friends' than I could shake a stick at. Oh yes, there
were plenty of people who didn't/don’t like me too, but the ones who did,
suddenly dropped me like a bag of shit when there was a new star on the
horizon. It was just like the old Eagles song, ‘New kid in town.’
way things go, so long as you're entertaining people and making them laugh,
they love you, if you stop for a while, they don't want to know anymore and
trade you in for the latest model. To be honest though, once the initial
disappointment had worn off for me, I was glad to be out of the limelight. I
didn't feel as if I had to please anyone, I could just please myself and not
give a hoot anymore, which is much more cosier if you prefer your own company
Samantha is also
ostrich; she buries her head in the sand when things are bad, if she doesn’t
think about things, they aren’t happening, or else she uses her sense of humour
as her shield against the things that hurt her. This is exactly what I am like;
so if you ever upset me, don’t think that I’ll come running to you and ask you
to make it up with me, I won’t, I’d more than likely tell you to fuck off and
will never let you see how upset I really am. But, I don’t ever stay upset for
long, not even with the things that really hurt me, I am too much of an
optimist to let people hurt me for too long.