Con Riley lives on the wild and rugged Devonshire coast, with her head in the clouds, and her feet in the Atlantic Ocean. Injury curtailed her enjoyment of outdoor pursuits, so writing fiction now fills her free time instead. Love, loss and redemption shape her romance stories, and her characters are flawed in ways that makes them live and breathe. When not people watching, or wrangling her own boy band of teen sons, she spends time staring at the sea from her kitchen window. If you see her, don’t disturb her—she’s probably thinking up new plots.
- Good luck if you're getting your #Alevel results today. (I'm nearly 50, but I remember failing mine. Felt awful, but was start of fab life.), Aug 17
- RT @BroderickGreer: https://t.co/ROuhIYhhu8, Aug 16
- RT @ChrisEvans: His brain just isn't good enough., Aug 15
- Fuck's sake @nectar Why would any decent organisation get into bed with the shit Gibbons at the Daily Mail? Terribl… https://t.co/7tzFvbnsqg, Aug 15