Chapter 1

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2015 has not been a kind year to this blondie.  I lost my job a few months back, one of my businesses almost bankrupted me, and just this week, a weird chemical reaction at the beauty salon meant that I've lost half of the hair on my head.  Epic fails.

On top of that, I've also had a very disappointing time with books that I was asked to write which were then rejected - and even more frustrating, they were stories I didn't particularly enjoy writing.  But I was told they would sell or be more suitable for print, so I put aside the books I prefer to write and did as I was asked.

Having those book deals fall through has actually been a blessing.  By throwing out the notion of writing as a financially viable career, I don't have to play by the rules anymore - it's just something I do for love.  Books like The Curves Ahead, True North and Rich Girl Poor Girl  are apparently 'unpublishable' but they are the stories that I love to spin - they are my legacy, even if no one ever pays me a cent to write them.

So, this book has a double purpose; it allows me to work out all my angst when it come to failure, and it's my favourite kind of tale to write - inspirational, thought-provoking, fun, and filled with love.  I hope you enjoy.

xxoo Kate J. Squires

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Annoying Pinspiration Quote #1

"Failure is not the opposite of success – it is part of success."


The first big fail of my year happened just a few days into January. I rushed immediately over to see my best friend without calling. His door opened, and I thrust the bottle of wine in his face.

Cody's gentle face broke into a grin. "What happened?" he asked, throwing the door wide for me

"I know you have a date, and I'm sorry, I just need half an hour of first world whinging and I'll be out of your hair." I mooched into the apartment and allowed Cody to hug me. He smelled like a man ready for a date, all clean with a hint of smoky aftershave. Not that I noticed how my best friend smelled, or that his sculpted stubble would be the perfect length for grazing along soft skin. Whatever.

"Whinge away," he said, kissing the top of my head and ushering me towards his couch. "I'm not picking up Megan until later. I'll pour the wine."

I flopped down onto the cool grey leather and lay back with my arms over my head. "I love this couch. You should have one of these for your practice. I bet if people were this comfy, they'd tell their therapist more."

"You've said that before, and I keep telling you, nowadays people don't normally lay down on couches. Now, spill." Cody crossed back and handed me a glass filled with red wine.

Sitting up, I took a deep sip then said, "I didn't get the home loan."

"For that shoebox townhouse? The one I told you was a dud?"

"Hey, you're a psychologist, not a real estate guru. I thought it was fine."

"Mia, you know that place was a crap-shack in a terrible neighbourhood. And you would have been living under the airport flightpath."

"Okay, maybe it wasn't as nice or central as your place." I gestured around Cody's elegant high-rise apartment, with the views sparkling over the city of Melbourne. I loved living in the 'most liveable city in Australia,' I just wished I lived a little more like Cody and a little less like my noodles-and-tram-rides lifestyle. "But not all of us are raking it in. Besides, it was a starter home. That's what I'm supposed to doing at my age – buying property and building an investment. It's financially smart."

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