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May Newsletter

This is number two in the latest edition. I’m convinced experimenting with Windows based products either makes life easier or drives us crazy.

My aim today, is to give you an insight into how I go about writing. I’m often asked this question at forums I attend or book launches.

The except from Contract Blanc is below. Number 3 in the series

And, I’d love to hear from you. Could I use your name in the next book?

And a big Thank You for signing up to the website.


My Reading List this Month.

Tony Park – Captive

H.Y Hanna – Apple Strudel alibi (Book 8 Oxford Tea Room Mysteries)

Julia Stagg – The French Postmistress (Book 3 in the Fogas Chronicles)

Kate Furnivall – The Italian Wife


My Interview with Professor Claire Lane. She would only answer a couple of questions. I must admit I was a bit nervous. As an author, I went with the easiest question first. Me: Miss Lane, thank you for joining us today. I love your hat, where did you buy it from? Miss Lane: It’s not mine, I borrowed it from Ralph’s collection. He has so many and I found this one, pretty don’t you think, behind the door in his study at Daroonga Castle. Me: Yes, I agree with you. So, what it like working with a famous Detective from Scotland Yard?

Miss Lane: Really, exciting. He’s so meticulous, well, I am too, but he’s good to look at. Don’t you agree? Me: Yes, he is. But don’t you get a little frustrated by his formal approach to crime scenes? Miss Lane: In a matter of speaking, I do. He fiddles around with the most senseless ideas. I feel sorry for the man, he needs to lift his game. The day I wheeled my blackboard into his office, really upset him. Its how I work, you see. Writing down all the points I know and then improvising. Me: I’ll try to get a hold of him and ask him what he thinks. Thank you for your time today.


Light snow covered the dark outline of the fishing boat it was dark, too dark. Two men sat huddled on the gunwales. Two men cowered together. Nothing disturbed the silence. Nothing. The lone sound the slow chug-chugging of an outboard motor approaching from the beach. With a slight bump, the small utility boat scraped along the side of the more substantial trawler, a screech of metal searing the silence. The wind was picking up. A frigid wind accompanied falling flakes made the task almost unbearable. Johnnie Sargent wrapped his yellow sou'wester tightly around his thin body. His cough came from deep within his chest as he was hauled over the side and unceremoniously dumped beside a cork barrel. A shot fired. Then another. Both sailors crumpled to the deck. ‘Come,’ he muffled to his companion. ‘We need to move quickly.’ – except from the new – Contract Blanc

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