Wanna read my book?

How would you like to read some of my book? I have decided to publish an excerpt for you today! Remember, if you love it – you can grab a copy, either book or digital media from Amazon – link at the end!


The lack of curtains on the dark stained wooden framed window gave no protection from the first shards of the winter morning sunlight, streaming through the dirty, time aged panes, warming but bright flooding onto Bea’s face, rousing her from her slumber. She stretched somewhat uncomfortably on the make shift bed, a mattress tossed hurriedly on the newly laid bare floorboards of the still strange room. Boxes surrounded the bed, a few scattered pieces of furniture were strewn around looking equally dishevelled.

Coming to slightly, still in that wonderful fantasy place where awake meets asleep, she rolled her tiny underweight body slightly backwards seeking the warmth of Matt’s form, waiting for his arms to catch her close. All at once the pain and angst hit her again, steamroller fashion, as it had done every morning for the past six months, the realisation tumbling into her mind that Matt was of course not there, nor was he ever going to be again.

It seemed to be the early mornings that hurt the most at the moment. Some days she swore she could smell him, so convinced she could feel the dip in the mattress of another body, even feel his solid tanned arms as they caught her up to him. The memories of her slight frame enveloped against his larger muscular frame, in that wonderful time before sleep becomes wake. An almost ethereal moment, such a treasured memory of the ten or so years they had slept together night after night.

A single tear rolled down over the freckle bridge that formed a path over the porcelain skin of her nose, and landed in the mass of her back length ginger curls. More tears followed as they always did, forming soggy trails around her ears. She would have given anything to travel back in time, grab hold of him, hold him tight never letting go, that gorgeous man with his blonde floppy hair and cheeky blue eyes, preventing him leaving for work as he had done that fateful morning.

July 7th 2005, the day that her world, along with the worlds of so many other people was turned upside down never to be the same again, the day the London underground was bombed. Matt along with 51 others lost his life, and countless other lives were changed forever in the blink of an eye. The chaos and carnage of 7/7 obliterated her life in just a few short hours. Derailing her life, setting her on a path she had not chosen, a path she did not like one bit. That calendar date would haunt her forever and she wondered for the millionth time why this had to happen to her, how fate could deal such a cruel blow. She believed she was a good person, she had never deliberately harmed anyone. What had she done to deserve this horrific blow.

She lay there in the crisp new white sheets and uncovered duvet, in this strange new room, painfully lost in memories wishing she could wake up from this nightmare and find Matt waiting, yet knowing it would never be.

That fateful day it was as if a black shroud had descended around Bea and for quite sometime she could not see her way out and to be honest didn’t care if she ever saw light again. How could life have been so cruel. Matt had been just weeks away from working out his notice at the advertising company, their dream life was finally taking shape.

They had just signed the purchase papers on a chapel, ripe for conversion, nestled in a sleepy village in Devon, the builders were booked, the plans into the local authority. Matt’s uncle had passed away and having no children of his own had left them everything, such a generous and unexpected gift.

It was enough to turn their once impossible dream into a reality, and an immense excitement was growing. On that morning, he kissed her goodbye as he always did, and pausing at the door of their London home, his blue eyes meeting her green eyes sparkling with the excitement of life, he said ‘Happy birthday my darling girl, six weeks Bea, our dream starts for real, just me, you and them, perfect! We will grab a meal tonight, and celebrate.’
Bea had lent against the grubby white of the door frame watching until he was long gone from sight, smiling in contentment and excitement before returning to the emails and calls of friends and family wishing her happy birthday. Just an hour later the nightmare began as she heard the news and began the frantic search for her husband.

The plan for Devon was Matt would run a consultancy from home, training it up to London when needed, and Bea could easily continue her illustration work via the internet, allowing them the freedom to spend valuable time with their 7 year old twins Josh and Ellie.

The plan was now empty and meaningless. Life had lost all excitement, dreams were shattered on the ground. It was late afternoon when the call came from a hospital staff member confirming her worst fears. Matt’s body had been found, identification checked, 100% certain, they were truly sorry for her loss. Hope was dead.

For the first few weeks Bea stumbled around as if in perpetual darkness, days merging to nights, nights to days. Nothing held meaning, lost without Matt she simply functioned on autopilot, constantly crying as she prepared meals, washed and cleaned, she was inconsolable and weak. Her weight plummeted. Those once sparkling green eyes now sunken and dull.
Family members shelved their own grief to try and get contact with her, but no one could break into her bubble of loss. Things looked very bleak.

The funeral had been a blur, she remembered very little from the day apart from various people taking turns to hold her on her feet. Her mother dressed her like a child that morning, she had chosen to wear a black dress and a long black coat. She was an outstanding and fragile beauty.

Standing unaided was simply not happening, should those around her forget and let go of her she slid to the ground as if her bones were missing. She spent a lot of time that day sobbing on the floor, the hearts of those that loved her and Matt breaking at this embodiment of grief before them. The children thankfully had been shielded from this display of grief safely ensconced with their great aunt for the day with the promise of sweets, DVD’s and other treats, too young to need to witness a funeral, especially that of their father.

In the weeks before they laid Matt to rest, Bea’s mother, Louise had flown in from her Parisian apartment, scooping her distressed daughter up in her arms as she had done many times when Bea was a child and had fallen in the street and scraped a knee. Holding her and rocking her as she howled and sobbed. Stroking her hair, making soothing noises.

However this was so much more painful that that scraped knee, and Louise’s own heart was torn in two for her daughters loss, she knew no way of making it any easier. But thankfully a mothers arms hold such sanctuary, and Bea gratefully allowed her to play mother hen, tending house, cooking meals and keeping the twins going. At the end of the day, when the door was closed, the curtains drawn, the world shut out and her grandchildren were safely tucked up she would retire to her room to allow her grieving daughter to fall apart, so hoping for some small sight of healing.

Tears, so many tears, pain, unbelievable pain, endlessly thumbing the pages of photograph albums. Images of happy smiley people became a blur as the saline tears fell endlessly onto the pages below. She would stare at the lounge door willing him to walk through, yet he never did. She knew he never would.

For a while all seemed lost, and the family began to discuss hospitals and medication, with heavy hearts and much sadness as they did not want that for her, but it seemed that she could not recover.

Thankfully though, time is a curious beast, Bea did indeed begin to heal and rejoin the world of the living. Her pain remained raw, but by Christmas Bea knew what she had to do. Driving her mother to the airport she confided her plans, and her Louise knew, as mothers do, that her daughter was going to be just fine and it was now safe for her to leave her to find her wings once more.

The chapel would be her tribute to her beloved husband.

The children were no longer thriving at the busy city school, their own grief leaving them flat and unmotivated; Matt had been so vehement in his wish to have them brought up in the green of Devon where he too had spent his childhood. His parents were now living just over the border in Somerset and would be without doubt delighted that she was bringing their grandchildren home; her mum was to remain in France but could be there within a day if she was needed. She would take her family, and although they were now three not four, they were still very much a family and they would create a home, maybe a future, as she reluctantly accepted that Matt was never coming home again.

Want more? Buy the book here…. http://www.amazon.co.uk/Spirit-Seven-1-Anna-Everett/dp/1512097047/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1444139808&sr=8-1&keywords=anna+everett

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© Anna Everett,  2015.  Anna Everett  – Author and Motivational Speaker




Yesterday I had the honour of being invited to London, to an awards ceremony as a finalist in my other role as holistic therapist.  Whilst sadly I didn’t win, it was lovely to meet so many like minded people, and they assured us the standard was so high, we should all feel very proud….(so for a brief moment I shall 😉 )

What struck me was the absolute reliance on technology.  On the coach I was sat in an area that contained a young couple, a retired lady, a single gent of about 60, a middle aged gent and a lady in her early 30’s.  As I looked around I realised we all held a very similar pose, phones clasped firmly in one hand, the only exception being the retired lady who was playing word games on her kindle.

The phones were constantly checked, texts came in, texts went out….and whilst I was as guilty as my travelling companions it did strike me as a little tragic. We have come to totally rely on these devices.

The single gent happily checked out his dating profile not worried about whether we could see, which made me smile, and I really hope he finds that special someone.  

I used my phone for texts, maps, news, and information, and the single guy in his 40’s was able to alert us to the fact that Hammersmith bus station was closed before the announcement was made over the tannoy.

On the return journey, which had seen me use 2 of my 4 battery packs I had taken (knowing my phone wouldn’t last) the scene was pretty much the same, everywhere I looked there was a sea of technology.

This time it was me that spotted a closure on the M5 before the driver alerted us to the diversion

Whilst I found it of comfort to be able to keep in touch with home, check the weather, watch the road conditions, it did start me wondering about our reliance on technology…

Is there anyway back?

How much deeper will the rabbit hole go?

Is this truly 1984?

6 Reasons You Haven’t Broken Free From The Rat Race

1) I am the one and only

If I had a dime for every time a client tells me ‘I can’t do it’….well I would have a rather impressive collection of dimes!  Confidence is the number one reason why people do not ever break free from the 9-5 and become their own boss.

Ok, I get that bills have to be paid, but there is more than one way to approach this conundrum.  I, like thousands of other people started my business whilst lining the pockets of my employer at the same time.  I worked the 9-5 for them, and the 5-9 for myself.  Yes, it gave me a lot of hours, and not it wasn’t easy but I could not afford to have a massive drop in income either.

Gradually over time I was able to drop my employed hours to part time, and then finally no time!  The only thing that kept me going was the confidence I had in my own abilities and ideas.  I had done my research, found my niche in the market, I knew I could do this.  I believed I could find the work.

Ultimately, I believe in myself.

2) If at first you don’t succeed

The best friend of confidence, determination is a key feature of breaking free.   When I wanted part time hours I had to change my role, and the day I left over 20 people must have come up to me and said they would be next.  They would not stay within the company for another year , they have plans.

That was almost a decade ago, and to the best of my knowledge only 3 have left.

If you really want out, there is a way.  But you have to have determination and grit.  If you start to break free but find your new plan isn’t working out as you expected – change it, try again and try harder.  I knew with every fibre in my being that I did not want to work for an employer and do that 9-5 grind.  I had to get out.  For me it wasn’t a dream, it was a reality waiting to happen.

Determination pushes your dreams into realities.

3) It is a non-negotiable social convention

My clients often tell me that they cannot make the changes they want because it is not socially acceptable.  I hear things like ‘My father was a doctor, I am expected to follow in his footsteps’ or ‘Everyone in our family went to Yale, I have to go there and study something I don’t want to’

Social expectation creates clones.

If UK millionaire Sir Alan Sugar had conformed to expectation he certainly would not have been the millionaire success he is today.  Richard Branson?  the same.  They broke the mould and decided to do things differently.  Much the same as I did.  I tried to fit in and conform, honest I did.  But it was boring.  I hated it.  So I am afraid I stuck two fingers up to social expectation and did it my way.

I can laugh at the ‘I hate Monday’s’ brigade now.  Monday is just another day in my self planned, self governed schedule of work, and honestly?  I normally go out for coffee on a Monday morning.

Sucks to be me hey! Which leads me nicely to my next point

4) Green is not your colour darling 

I am the subject of a lot of envy, and I have to say I don’t really get it.  I am nothing exceptional.  I have done nothing remarkable.  I have just used my own motivation, my own desire and I have fought for what I wanted.  I have rejected what I didn’t want.

Envy really is an ugly emotion people.

If you sit and look through a green tinted haze of jealousy at a friend, colleague or even person in the media, wishing you had their lives, you are wasting time.

If you do that, you will never succeed.

If that is hard to hear then I’m sorry but that is a fact.  Wake up and get over yourself.  Frankly it doesn’t matter if they landed on their feet, inherited millions or were a self starting business person.  They have made it, and one sure fire way to never get there yourself is to sit in envy.  There will always be someone that has something you want.  You need to give up envy and take up confidence and determination.

Believe you too can achieve, and do you know what?  You will.

5) Scaredy cat?

But, but, but….it is all so scary.  Yeah it is.  But for me, that is half the fun.  I know what I need to do to live, and pay my bills etc, the rest is ‘take a chance’ time.  I am always trying new things, I am always pushing boundaries and thinking outside of my box.

For me the fear is proof that I am alive, the proof that I am not just another minion on the treadmill of corporate greed.  I have seen people walk away from high paying jobs, with masses of debt, and they are flying!

My all-time favourite internet meme that gets touted around Facebook daily is this.

What if I fall?…but oh my darling what if you fly?  (Erin Hanson).

6) Put your back into it

The second biggest reason people fail?  They can talk the talk, but when it comes to walking that walk, well they really cannot be bothered.  I have no idea what happens in TV shows, I do not know who the Biggest Loser is, I haven’t a clue who shot JR…why?  Because I would rather be working and building the life I am going to have.

‘I was going to write my best selling novel, but the golf was on.’  ‘I was going to sell 300 units but I was tired so I watched tele’.  Now, I am not saying I am a workaholic, as I say my monday mornings usually consist of lots of tea and meaningless chatter, but I do put the hours in.

The more success you achieve the more choosey you can be with your time.

But, when I was first starting out, and quite often even now, I will still be working at 10pm. Isn’t that self defeating?  Well for me, no.  I have my comfy chair, my laptop, my dogs on my lap…. If my children need me, I will stop in an instant.  I have freedom.  I can lose a few $$$$ by taking an evening off, but rather than watch mindless drivel on the tele box I would rather grab a few more $$$$ meaning I don’t have to worry about a meal out, a soccer match, or just chilling watching a movie with them.  BUT IT IS A BALANCE.

The most frustrated failures are the ones who believe that just deciding to start their own business is enough to guarantee success.  Make the connection between hard graft on your terms and all the success you could ever imagine!

So, what are you waiting for?  Get out of the rat race today!

© Anna Everett 2015.  annaeverettauthour.com  All rights reserved

The Spirit of Seven

I have always written for as long as I can remember….. writing the holistic self help books is easy and safe, I know that years of learning means I am writing with clear and confident knowledge, but fiction I have always hidden my light.

I have the beginnings, middles and endings of several books, but never the confidence to bring them to completion.

However, they say ‘Do one thing every day that scares you’ – so I did!

The Secret of Seven has been a work in progress for many years, but now I have taken the step of finishing and publishing.

It makes for excellent summer reading, it is a bit of a romance, but there is a bit of a supernatural twist to the tale, so I really hope you will enjoy it!

The Spirit of Seven is available in kindle or paperback format, I look forward to hearing your views!

‘After 7/7 brings tragedy, Bea must learn to live again, thrown onto a path she did not choose without her wonderful Matt. Renovating a chapel on her own was not part of the deal, but along the way she meets Jock, who quickly becomes her rock. In a life running parallel to hers, builder Finn Morgan is thrown into turmoil and shrouded with grief. Will either find happiness again? Happiness comes in the form of a meddling old Scot in a tale of love and loss, pain and healing, with a truly spine tingling revelation. Seven will never mean the same again. A gripping but fun read perfect for the beach this summer’.


Holistic Alchemist presents a guide to meditation

A beginners guide to meditation and how to do it. Includes an explanation of all types of meditation, the history of meditation, how to meditate and much more. Explore the amazing benefits available when we harness the power of the mind and combine that with meditation.

Available as paperback or kindle download