Guisborough; this old North Yorkshire town with its cobbled streets and tall trees is a delightful place on market day - unless it rains.  Water trickling down the canopies and on to our heads send Colin and I scuttling into a café.  It's warm, steamy and busy inside. Peeling off our macs we slide into a … Continue reading A chest of Gold →

I was sitting on the terrace contemplating the cluster of houses perched precariously on the cliff face when two hefty workmen strode into the tea room looking rather incongruous amongst the buckets, spades and sunhats. 'The usual?' asked the pleasant faced lady behind the counter. 'Aye; that'll be fine luv,' replied the one with the … Continue reading Nice One missus! →

Come back with me to a springtime a few hundred years ago; 664 AD to be precise, and to an abbey perched high on the cliff tops.  The Abbess stands at the window watching the river wind its way quietly towards the river mouth.  She shivers as a breeze blows through the open window and … Continue reading Almost Easter →

I don't know about any other writer but I've been having a real struggle getting back into writing again after the holidays,  I can find plenty of things to do - except sit down and write.  I was bemoaning this to my friend Ruth. 'Have you heard about George?' she asked me. 'Who's George?' I … Continue reading HAPPY NEW YEAR →

Do any other authors out there remember the first piece of work they had published? Of course you do.  There's that sense of 'I've made it;  I'm published!' then there's that euphoria that carries you along for the next few days. My euphoria came in the publication of a true story in the local newspaper.  … Continue reading “I’ve made it!” →