LIVING IN A SURREAL WORLD!

 Hello World,

I haven't written here in a long while, and for moments I pause, listening to the silence, knowing that everything I have to say lays heavy on my heart. But then, writing isn't just about creativity, it's also about experience ... Life Experience. Everything you feel and wish and  hope, even the pain, depression and gloom can be channeled through writing towards creating a more positive outcome. At least, that's what I'm hoping might happen here. Writing is a solitary art, only shared once a book is written and publishers found, pushing your baby into the wider world to grow, to develop, to realise its full potential. It's how I've lived for many years ... and through writing, shared aspects of my Life, hoping in doing so to have enriched others.

But there is an alternative path, and it is this I am on now where, instead of walking through a dark still wood, I am in an open meadow, a vista of meadow flowers lifting their heads creating an unexpected vibrancy of colour to envelop the land, with a babbling brook pausing in its flow, as if straining to catch the new thread of melody working its way towards its clear fresh waters.

Truths unexpectedly cast shadows across the scene ...

On Sunday last, almost one week to the day from writing this now, I received an email from my husband basically telling me he had left me to live a life alone in London. He'd been working on contract there awhile. For one day a week, I could look forward with so much pleasure and yearning to his company and togetherness shared. Now suddenly, the world I knew was slipping from under me. It was surreal. I looked around our Home. We'd been together for over five years, both with chequered pasts; married for two. I believed I had found The One. Finally after all these years of pain and betrayal, I loved this man with all I had to give ... body, mind, spirit, soul. My instincts of late had been screaming something was out of kilter. It could have been me, but I asked all the same what was going on. It irritated him for me to ask. It's all in my mind. Emotions playing havoc. Nothing. He isn't the sharing type. A Hunter. One who likes control. I trusted him ... he is the only person apart from my parents I have trusted with my life.  

Life ... suddenly a fragile bird ... broken beyond repair.

As I read and re-read the email over and over, as if trying to make the words mean something else, my heart was already bleeding, a heavy weight of fear sinking me to the floor, making me physically sick. A lake of tears quickly became an ocean of pain. I collapsed into an untidy heap screaming ... screaming ... screaming for someone to hear, someone to make everything come right. Child. Waiting for the loving arms of a mother to draw her in. Then, like the fragile bird trying to fly again, only too badly wounded, I fluttered helplessly around the house, our Home, filled with everything I knew and loved, everything that spoke of Us ... our Wedding Photo taken at Gretna Green still proudly displayed, a smiling couple gazing enraptured at one another, the man I loved gazing back at me, smiling, still managing to bring a spark of magic to a dark moment that suddenly became black.

How? Who? Why? When? Where?

Questions I couldn't answer.

Secrets whispered from the shadows.

Who could I trust to tell me the truth, to explain, to make sense of the devastation surrounding me, drawing me down ... down ... down into the depths of despair?

It is now almost one week to the day when that email arrived. Life is surreal. First thing Monday morning the Council had been notified with a telephone call from him, instigating the posting of forms to my address. The word 'Separation' was already spoken. While I was standing still, trying to grasp what was happening, tick... tock...tick, everything was going on around me. Post arrived. Forms to fill. A Link Worker from Age Concern sat on the sofa for hours amidst a torrent of feeling spurtling from my mouth, unable to stop the flow. 

Was there no stopping this Force, this Power that had taken over my Life?

'But we're married', I kept saying over and over again. Hadn't I asked if there was anything wrong expecting him to share, to discuss things like any sane partnership, and in the case of a husband and wife, to work at the relationship, to heal the rift, to have that chance at least. 

Wasn't Love worth saving?

The worst of it is, this happened before. Someone else walked away without warning. He didn't make contact for weeks, while I thought maybe he'd had an accident, a heart attack, lying in a hospital somewhere waiting to be found. I had a serious breakdown. Already I feel myself slipping into that same state of mind.  

But why me? What did I do wrong?

I ask the question. I know, stupid. But people don't walk away for no good reason ... do they? Unbelievably, texts gradually eased their way through the ether, as if knowing the hurt they would cause ... Disability! Yes, I've been disabled since birth. Not everyone is cut out to be a Carer, I guess. But look where that leaves me now!! Feeling really really stupid when I can't unscrew a top, write a shopping list, with no grip in my hands. An abuse survivor with PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder). Can I help it that Life has been cruel? I manage. I cope with Life, knowing the triggers when they come, feeling my way through the pain of the past to the other side where once He was always there, with what I had believed was comforting warmth and understanding as much as he was able. And yes, I take an interest in other people's problems, reaching out, because no-one had been there for me.

But then it comes.

'I fell out of love with you.'

Ah! Now we're at the bottom line!! Another woman perhaps? No, he just wants to be alone, away from me and where we live, to start afresh ... but then again, we're not simply having a relationship ... WE'RE MARRIED!!! You can't simply walk away from that and deny all responsibility.

Anyone who has experienced loss of any kind will know how I'm feeling now. Someone has described it as 'a living death'. Another: 'worse than death'.  He's gone, but he hasn't gone. He's still a very real part of my life ... but then again, not here by my side. This is Home. But he doesn't live here any more.

I'm living in a surreal world!

And right now, as another sleepless night creeps in, folding me in layers of darkness and fear ... I just wanted to reach out and to share with an ocean of people about what is happening, how that feels, wondering how on earth we come through something like this when it's happened before, caused a chaotic breakdown, and for eighteen months being unable to move on with life.

It's the need I hate most in me, and staying true to the contract I made with myself many years ago in another world of pain, I try to create at least one positive a day, however small ... getting out of bed to walk painfully into the village to the shops means I have to speak words to someone, even if it's only 'Hello'. I could so easily become a hermit. Stay safe inside my bubble which starts out as protection, but so easily becomes a trap, a prison, blocking the energy, pushing in the pain, imploding in a place unseen.

Writing here is a positive.

Okay, maybe no-one who understands right now is going to read it. But loneliness and loss is a huge HUGE topic in this world today. It would be good to hear how other people cope and survive. We come through different experiences, but emotion can be the same, drawing us together, connecting, creating a chain of kindred spirits. Writing is my one outlet right now, and if I could just get one reply from someone somewhere it will be a major positive and well worth having opened my heart.

Thank you for listening.

SHOW TIME!!

FILEY LIBRARY
Thursday 22 January 2015
2pm - 4pm

A library is always the hub of any community. All people are welcome. Filled with subdued chatter, it offers a safe space where any number of worlds are labelled on surrounding shelves, enticing us to enter.

Libraries have been a familiar setting to me since my beginnings. Holding tight the hand of my father, we would stroll together down the High Street, passed the shops, and play peep-bo either side of the hedge before heading towards the Common, with the library opposite. My head would peek above the counter at the lady stamping my books. I would wince each time her hand hammered down, feeling the pain of the page, wishing she would treat the book with more respect. But then, I would creep in and down past shelves achingly familiar, seeking out the portal to a world I hadn't yet explored.

Oh, the sense of surprise and adventure! I couldn't wait to get my three precious books home!!

Filey library had once been my second home. I would spend days locked into this safe space, with the freedom to explore, to prize open the memory of those early years, sensing that same excitement, visiting the children's section, before earnestly seeking out new Kingdoms in which to spend my time.

It was here that Tony and I set up the exhibition around RAF 100 Group, a secret WWII Group whose prime objective was to identify and jam enemy radar with new and experimental equipment fitted secretly into aircraft. We had been invited to present a book signing of my latest book: UGLY TRUTH, BEAUTIFUL LIES with the picture of Shrewsbury Tunnel on the front cover, offering a glimpse of the world that waited for readers to explore. The previous book, the first in the series, stood proud at its side: STONE COLD DEAD, the picture of a Lysander set against a full moon brought veterans tripping to the table, sharing their own wartime adventures.

I am passionate about preserving wartime stories and its history. It was a war in which so many families were destroyed. Nothing was ever the same again. Life was snuffed out in a heartbeat. But for those who survived they want these haunting memories to be remembered, to remind us of what war is really all about, and to stop something like that ever happening again.

May those countries at war in the present time somehow find their peace!

Amongst the many books surrounding us, history was being shared ... not through the pages of a book written by some unknown author, but here and now by someone who was right there, in the heat of battle, wanting to tell the way it was. Others gathered to listen, to become part of the essence of that sharing ... which in turn produced discussion amongst strangers who became friends.

It was a small and yet significant miracle!

'What do I need to start writing a book?'

The question came suddenly, as if from out of nowhere. The conversation shifted and shaped into something else.

'I began with pen and paper. You simply need to get used to the idea of writing, of putting your thoughts and feelings on paper, however that comes ... or a computer if you use one.'

'What kind of pen?'

Is that important? The thought flashed across my mind.

'I mean ... do you use a fountain pen, a biro, a pencil ... what?'

'No. To be honest I started off using a biro, but then put alterations in pencil so I could change them again, or in a different colour so they show up. It's the writing that important. What you use are simply tools you are using to create a piece of writing, like crafting something out of wood, or cooking up a meal ...'

'Paper. What kind of paper?'

Whooah! Where are we going with this?

'I used lined paper only because it was simpler for me. A notebook would be ideal to jot down ideas and thoughts you have, and it's small enough to carry around with you ...'

I broke off as the speaker began to share a story he called 'Seascape'. It had shape and form. It had characters which easily came to mind. He paused for breath.

'Sounds like you have a good story. And it's one of local interest. But you need to get it out of your head onto paper ... do you use a computer?'

'No, not really.'

'Okay, then go buy a notebook ... whatever you feel most comfortable with ... and just get used to the idea of writing, putting words on a page. It's an incredible feeling, to know you're creating something unique to you.'

A face peered down at the large A4 sheet I had in front of me, just in case anyone wanted to share their details.

'It doesn't have to be that big, to be honest. A small notebook will do. But if you want that size, there is a shop just around the corner ... or Tesco actually sell them as well as notebooks. Remember, it's your choice. Your story sounds good. Do you think it's a short story, or a book? Whatever, maybe you simply need to just write ... however it comes, that's good.'

'I took a Creative Writing Course, but I left before the final exam. It wasn't a good day for me ...'

'Okay', I said carefully. 'Then you must have written things for the course. Which brings us back to the story you've just shared and the importance of getting it onto paper, and then building it up, working on characters, making them real, and ...'

'It has to be a best seller ... how can you guarantee that? And a film ... I want it to become a film!'

The silence around us deepens. It's as if the library is holding its breath, waiting for the next word to fall.

'Anything is possible. Remember that. But first steps are important. First you need the writing, your story on paper before it can go anywhere. And if you enjoyed the Creative Writing Course why not go back there? It's a good place to start, with people available to help and support you ...'

'You make money out of writing. You've written all these books. They all have your name on. So why write if you're not going to become famous?

My words now dropped to a whisper. They were meant for his ears alone.

'I have been writing ever since I was a little girl. It was like creating my own world. I was in control of it. I could make things happen. But then I could also make nasty things go away. You can't do that in real life. My dream wasn't about becoming famous, or becoming a bestseller ... my dream was simply about writing. It became an everyday habit, like brushing your hair, doing your teeth, washing your hands ...'

I watched his face fall. Oh no, I hadn't meant to shatter his dream. Everyone needs a dream, something to hang on to ...

'The story 'Seascape' is already out there. I'm just borrowing it, and changing it to become mine.'

This was a bold statement, and not said that quietly. Now we were entering a whole different ball game!

'Oh but the writing has to be your own. Maybe you have something that has happened to you in your life you could write about?'

'No!'

'Okay. It was only an idea. So think about the story you were telling me, that's already out there, how it starts ... can you think of something that happens in everyday life you could use to build a story, something you see or hear about? You need to be writing about things you know. To use your own experience. But as I said before ... it's about getting used to the idea of writing first off, putting pen to paper, however it comes, letting it flow from what's going on inside your head ...'

The guy had wandered off. I thought we were done. But then ...

'I've found it!'

'What?'

'How to Write a Best Seller!'

Oh!

'That's okay isn't it? Once I've read this, I'll know all about it, and my writings will get into the bookshops and become a film!'

I shook his hand.

'Remember, the first words are important. They have to come from you ...'

'Yes, yes, yes ... but now I have the answer!'

The answer to Life?!?

Whether it was going to prove to be the answer to Somebody's life only time would tell. For us, it was time to go home. But just as we'd begun packing up, the guy still standing in the background, glancing through the book before placing it carefully on the stand from whence it came, a mother and daughter approached. The mother was a Carer, she spoke of a veteran who had shared with her his story of wartime before passing on. Her daughter and she were obviously very close, very warm, cuddly people. And I couldn't help but give them a parting gift ... a gift of the heart. It wasn't the book I was here to sign, but my mother's wartime story, a very warm, funny, poignant romance. I discovered their names, and dedicated it to them before putting my signature and presenting it to them.

They were in tears. I was in tears. We shared a group hug. Suddenly, the day was so warm, so vital. Everyone around us right then could, I am certain, feeeeel the love, they were so much a part of it, and it was that same love and joy and laughter we carried with us through the doors, back out into reality ... and home, their parting words ringing in our ears ...

'We'll read it together, Mum, at bedtime. Something to share ...'

I was reminded of my own Mum. I miss her. All those years ago, before her death, sharing her wartime story with me, her love for Vic Vinnell who didn't return from war; Jack Fisher his pilot who disappeared 26/27 November 1944 with him in Mosquito DK292 preparing to be their Best Man at their wedding a few days on. Then researching and writing the book together, feeling so much a part of it, stepping through the portal so many times that living in 1944 became a surreal experience and so so familiar. When finally it was published on the 60th Anniversary of the death of Vic and Jack, I felt that not just my dream but also that of my mother's, and of Vic's, had been fulfilled. 

A promise kept!

Thanks Maya and Mum (Mrs Hodgson). I hope you enjoy the story every bit as much as I loved writing it. Maybe I'll hear from you again soon.

 

  

 

HAPPY NEW YEAR: Welcome 2015

UGLY TRUTH, BEAUTIFUL LIES
published by Austin Macauley

Special note: Also available as audio

Event: BOOK SIGNING

Venue: FILEY LIBRARY, NORTH YORKSHIRE
Date: 22 JANUARY 2015
Times: 2pm - 4pm

A chance to meet and talk to the author and obtain a personally signed copy of her book.

I will have other publications on display offering opportunities to appreciate many of my 20 other works, including the first in this present-day series featuring Joe Maddison as the unlikely hero. Each of these books can be read as a stand-alone story, and each offers a different historical mystery to solve. It is one wartime thread that binds them together.

There will be another thriller in this series available soon, entitled: Smoke & Mirrors.

The good news for the New Year is that I now have a publisher who will be bringing out RAF 100 Group - Kindred Spirits for the future, alongside an in-depth 3-part series of books about this very secret wartime Group.

A VERY HAPPY NEW YEAR TO ALL MY READERS!

EXHIBITION 7 November 2014

With the launch of a new novel, it was my pleasure to be asked to take part in an Exhibition being held at Ga11ery 11 local to where we live. It offered the chance of old and new artistes to display their wares ... including arts and crafts, paintings ... and my books.

With my 21st publication, it felt like a Coming of Age Party!

Bottles of wine flowed followed by dishes of tasty nibbles as the public gathered to talk and share what was on show, despite the howling wind and rainfall putting off all but those determined to enjoy their evening.

My display featured the RAF 100 Group Association, remembering those brave forgotten heroes whose name is never mentioned on Remembrance Day because of the secrecy of their work. Shame then that the book I had hoped to be able to show on this day in their memory was pulled suddenly by the publishers, despite having a contract between us. RAF 100 Group - Kindred Spirits, draws together the voices of both RAF & USAAF who flew in partnership on secret airfields in Norfolk, UK. It is a precious and very unique book which illustrates commitment and courage of ordinary men and women living in extraordinary times. 

As a complete work, it is written in their words, including private writings, poetry, photographs and information about secret operations, flying like Guardian Angels over the bombers, identifying and jamming enemy radar. This was their main field of work, and yet they did so much work, including working with the Resistance, S.O.E and S.O.D, confusing the enemy by countermanding orders in German, etc, etc. The book is filled with so many personal experiences shared openly for the first time. It is a book which has come to mean so much to so many. 

As Secretary of the worldwide RAF 100 Group Association, and having worked alongside them for the past twenty years or so, my promise to them was to bring their stories out of the shadows into the light, to give them a public platform and a voice with which to share their fascinating stories. Those who did not come home will remain forever young, like my mother's wartime fiance who served under the lead Squadron of RAF 100 Group - No. 192, at RAF Foulsham, Norfolk. Vic and Jack went off in their Mosquito DK292 and were never heard from again. It is thought they were on an operation over Munich, and on their return perhaps had engine trouble, forcing them to land on a French beach, which they didn't know was mined!! The story of my mother Nina and Vic, who were to have married a few days following this operation, was published on the 60th Anniversary of Vic and Jack's death in November 2004. While this year marks the 70th Anniversary. And it was just so important to have this book published this year, 2014, bringing them together as part of the RAF 100 Group with which they served ... showing the wider picture, offering a deeper understanding of their very secret world.

Those who survived have held secrets about their wartime years throughout their lives, never speaking of what they were involved in, not even with their wives and family, taking the Official Secrets Act they had to sign at the time very seriously.

By withdrawing publication of this book, the publishers betrayed their trust and mine.

It was meant to be out for Remembrance Day, a fitting Memorial, which served to mark so many Anniversaries.

It is a book which means so much to so many, and now my pledge to these veterans is to continue my quest to get this book published ... whatever it takes ... sooner rather than later because for many, time is running out! Meanwhile, I have an ever-growing waiting list of people across the world made up of veterans and their families and friends, bookshops and Museums waiting to purchase a copy of this unique book.

I remain passionate that this book WILL be published. These precious, brave, and very wonderful people who helped bring the war to an early conclusion and saved so many thousands of lives WILL be recognised, and have the respect and honour they so richly deserve.

 Meanwhile, the exhibition offered a platform for the second of my two mystery novels entitled: 'Ugly Truth, Beautiful Lies', featuring Joe Maddison who has become adept at uncovering historical puzzles. The first in the series came out last year, published by Austin Macauley: 'Stone Cold Dead'. Both have an underlying thread linking them into a third in the series still to be published set in WWII.

I remain passionate about writing, but grow wearisome of publishers for whom books remain a business. I understand they need to make their profit margins, etc. And yet it is people who matter, people who become the readers, people who are curious and want to be informed, otherwise why do I continue to receive so many letters from those wanting to know how to find out about family members who served in this secret Group?

In this year, when the world has been remembering Anniversaries relating to two World Wars, I would have thought it fitting that a book be published to celebrate the lives of forgotten heroes, who served in different RAF Squadrons under a very secret Group involved in electronic warfare in the Second World War about which so little is written or known, particularly from the perspective of those who were there at the time.

'We WILL remember them!'

NEW PUBLICATION

UGLY TRUTH, BEAUTIFUL LIES
by Janine Harrington
published by Austin Macauley, 
31 October 2014, ISBN: 9781849635257

Joe Maddison has gained a name for himself for unravelling historical mysteries. After solving the wartime riddle involving his own family, this time he has to travel further into the past and delve into someone else's dark family secrets.

While holidaying in the heart of England, Joe and his wife Laura are asked to help unravel a 160 year old puzzle which has grown into a family legend and a ghost story. As they begin to dig into the disappearances of Connor and Isabella, young lovers from opposite ends of the Victorian social spectrum, it seems that the prejudices and presumptions of that era have survived down the ages.

It soon becomes clear that for Joe there might be more at stake than at first he thought, and his previous investigation may not be completely closed.

This is a book which represents for me the best I can offer in writing in the fiction genre. It became so precious, so personal, so much a part of me, I didn't want it to end, and lived through a real grieving process when once it was done, with the characters of Connor and Isabella still very much a part of me and my life. The best part about it is that the places in the book actually exist. It is for the reader to follow the clues.

An interview already completed for this publication is something I would like to share, because it offers a glimpse into what happens behind the scenes, the things which inspire me to write, and the way often life can mirror the story coming through:

AUTHOR INTERVIEW

     How did you come up with the title?

The title was born out of the saying: sometimes truth can be stranger than fiction. Sometimes we prefer the legend to how history played out in real terms. Often it can be simpler to leave things well alone

    Who is your intended audience, and why should they read your book?

This book is written for those who enjoy delving into family history and the past, finding out about myths and legends, understanding how and why things came to be. The places in this book do exist. It is possible to visit and therefore grasp the emotion behind the characters, and to see the places described in real time. Again, it is about following the clues – a mystery within a mystery, or so it would seem!

Is there any lesson or moral you hope your story might reveal to those who read it?

Don’t be afraid to get involved! On the other hand, be prepared for the unexpected if that’s what you do. Every event in this life presents a challenge. At that point where you stand at a crossroads or a fork in the road, trust your instincts. The moral behind this book is about working together towards a common goal, and how even just one person can make a difference!

What inspires you and motivates you to write the most?

Life experience! Often it feels as if I have lived many lives in the one … read my website to understand more – www.JanineHarrington.blogspot.com. For me, there is no such thing as fiction. Every book is built around life and experience, people we meet, strangers who become friends and soulmates, shadows which follow us on from the past and the gathering emotion they bring with them. Often the future appears hauntingly beautiful. At other times it can be marred by those shadows which stay with us until the end of Time. In everything we do there are lessons to be learned. It is our challenge in life to be the best that we can, and to give freely to others. I have been inspired by great pain, by emotions that ran so deep I never thought I would survive; I have also been inspired by joy and laughter and love … particularly that which comes from loving and being loved, life’s greatest gift of all.

 

Location and life experience can sprinkle their influence in your writing. Tell us about where you grew up and a little about where you live now. If you could live anywhere you wanted to live, where would that be?

I grew up in the south of England, in a land of magic and wonderment created by my parents. Born disabled, it was the stories my mother told me from as far back as I can remember which gave me promise and hope, something I wanted to be a part of. A very real part of me grew up in a world that wasn’t real, a world that didn’t exist except in our imagination, born of love, and a need to cherish and protect. In the shadows I learned that dragons and beasties really did exist. They controlled and challenged me for years, hidden just out of sight, but never out of mind. It took me tens of years before I was able finally to face those demons and take back control. I have written of these experiences in books which can be found on Amazon under my profile, and which became a cathartic part of moving on. It is also my hope that these books will support others and give them the courage to confront their fears and know they are not alone.

  Today I live with my husband, Tony, on the coast in the North East of England, and I cannot think of anywhere I would rather be. We married last year after a few years together, while Jo my daughter, is a free spirit, travelling the world in search of places to live and be. She married this year, and she is someone of whom I remain immensely proud for everything she has already achieved and which is yet to be. This book is dedicated to her, and to Tony who continues to share my journeyings. 

Tell us something personal about yourself that people may be surprised to know?

Born under the sign of Cancer, I am a Home-Maker, Home-Lover, someone who is strong for others, and yet often impossibly useless at helping herself. The motto I live by is that, out of every negative must come a positive … the greater the negative, the more that positive must be. I have almost died, and this challenge I set myself has always somehow pulled me through. The strongest part about me is my faith, and in the connectivity of people … those we meet, those who are a part of our family, those who will always remain strangers. It is the reason I will always help and support someone in need. Previous work experience has always been involved with people living on the edge – homeless, addicts, offenders in and out of prison, victims/survivors, disabled, older people, unemployed, excluded young people. Apart from prison, drug or alcohol abuse, my life mirrors their experience, and I feel a common bond.

Which famous person, living or dead, would you like to meet and why?

There are so many it’s difficult to choose, but I would love to spend time again with my mother who became my soulmate before she died from cancer in 1996. She never saw or read any of the kind of books I am writing now, never saw the positivity I can generate. I was in a dark place when she died, and she was afraid I would follow her.

  To me she was famous because of everything she achieved. She too was a writer, a potential author, who gave up her ambition to support my father follow his own dream.

  I would also love to meet, talk and share with her wartime fiancé Henry Victor (Vic) Vinnell who was killed suddenly on such a secret operation it is still not known, 70 years on, what he was involved in or where his final resting place might be. My mother never got over his death. Again, I have written their love story in a book entitled: ‘Nina & Vic: A World War II Love Story’, so in a very real way they both became very special, very important to me, people I love, and who in their own way became famous.

        Which writers inspire you?

My childhood inspirations were Enid Blyton, her stories filled with so much mystery and suspense I was always wishing for something unexpected to happen to follow through the clues myself. I went on to John Creasey who wrote in many guises more adult thrillers, meaningful plots, where the characters of people were teased into doing things they might never have done. Richard Bach is always a favourite, starting with ‘Jonathan Livingstone Seagull’ which I read over and over again, together with ‘One’, and ‘Bridge Across Forever’. These days, I enjoy Lee Child and following the thrilling adventures of Jack Reacher. However, in complete contrast, I also cannot get enough of books about reincarnation and the Afterlife, following the writings of Dr Brian Weiss, Carol Bowman and Michael Newton. They offer a completely alternative perspective about life, and at the same time answer so many searching questions, while generating so many more. It is these books which have inspired me to seek my own regression therapy, which I will share on my website as it happens.

     What are your ambitions for your writing career?

My one burning ambition is to have published a book about RAF 100 Group, bringing together the many voices of veterans who served in this secret group during WWII, and who never received recognition or a medal for their work with the Resistance, SOE, SOD, and identifying and jamming enemy radar. I have a book written and ‘ready to roll’ which means so much to so many, when Time is running out for them and their deepest need is to see their words in print, to know that their history and stories are preserved for the future and generations to come.

  Otherwise, I am a passionate and prolific writer. My life wouldn’t be complete without using this gift. I love writing about life, the people I meet, the many gateways to different ways of learning through experience. I will never tire of this … only the publication of my writings holds me back from doing more.

What are your expectations for this book? 

That readers will want to step through the portal offered and climb on tight for the roller-coaster ride with its unexpected twists and turns, feeling the story as if it were their own … leaving them with an unquenchable thirst to find out more and a need to read the first book ‘STONE COLD DEAD’, published by Austin Macauley if they haven’t already, but then wait until the next emerges again featuring Joe Maddison, with the writing already in progress.

  I hope many readers will enjoy these stories where the places are real, and by following the clues, it is possible to sit at a table by the same canal as Joe and Laura Maddison, imagining the way it might have been for them. The book is so real for me I didn’t want it to end, and I have the clearest picture of Connor and Isabella sitting at my side, wanting people to know them, to find out about their life, their love, and for the book to reach readers for whom this will become a book which touches their hearts.

Is there anything else you'd like to say? 

There is still one further book at least yet to be completed featuring Joe Maddison and the mystery that still hangs over his life, reaching back to the war. And there are others, tugging at my heart, aching to be written, reminding me, stirring me lest I become complacent, wishing only that they reach a wider public and are enjoyed by all.