I dedicated my first book to my mum, Tracy, who died in 2011. Unfortunately she wasn’t around to see it come out in digital print, but I didn’t hesitate to dedicate it to her. But, when it came time to dedicate Burning Blood, I had to pause. Who would I choose? There were plenty of family member, and there was my husband too. In the end I chose my grandmother, and it reads:

To Alison, my nonna,
For all the stories and everything else.

My (maternal) grandmother is like a second mother to me. Soon after I was born, my mum returned to work and with both parents in the workforce, someone had to look after me. Enter my grandmother. She cared for me four days a week until I started school, but even after that I spent a lot of time at her house.

For those of you who recognise the word nonna, you’ll know that it’s Italian for grandmother. My grandmother is not Italian, however, my cousins, who, with their mother, lived with my grandmother, are Italian. When they moved to Australia, they were calling her nonna and very soon I picked up on it. The name has stuck—although with a very Australian twang.

I think it’s because of my nonna that I get my love of books and stories. While I don’t remember us reading books together from an early age, there were plenty of stories, made up and real, that she’d share with me. And books were a constant, whether we read the same ones or not. I’d spend school holidays at her house, gorging on fantasy novels that I’d picked up from the local library.

And when it came to birthdays, giving her books was an easy choice (that and Maltesers). She loves to read history books so one time there’d be a book about the Great Fire of London, or another on the Silk Road. Religion was also a big win, not because she has faith but because of wanting to read about the histories of these large organisations. ‘The Popes Book’ (not its real name) was one we’d refer to often.

Then of course there were her personal stories. Anyone who’s met my grandmother knows she loves a good chat and at 93 years of age, she’s still able to hold her own. She’ll tell stories of living through the Blitz in London (her house was bombed but miraculously everyone in her family was elsewhere that night), or of her time as a probation officer.

She once had to sit in a probation meeting of gay men who had been arrested because they were homosexual. Or another story of Nigel being upset that Ken didn’t love him, and Ken saying that Nigel was just too needy.

When I was finally out to both my parents, my mum told my grandmother, who was over the moon about it. And to this day she continues to be my biggest fan, both of my writing and of me in general. (Though I now have to share some of that love with my husband, who she adores.)

So, when I think of stories, I often think of my grandmother, of how many we’ve shared, of how many she has. She even began writing a book, many years ago, but didn’t finish it, and sadly threw most, if not all, of it away. I would have liked to have read it. She tells me there were chapters that brought tears to her eyes. I think she was proud of that. I know I am.

So when you receive your copy of Burning Blood and see the dedication, you’ll now know who that special person is and what she means to me.

Who would you dedicate your book to? Leave a comment below.