HI There

I was born in Leeds on Halloween, which I suppose was a warning of what was to come, as I believe that I was not the easiest of babies. However Leeds was not my home city, I was to return to my family farm set high in the Yorkshire Dales and have an idyllic childhood. One of sunshine days in the summer and magical days watching snow falling through frosted windows in our cosy farmhouse kitchen in the winter. It was days of playing Cowboys and Indians, Tadpole catching, flower picking through the summer meadows and sledging in winter. Always safe and secure within my family, my big brother and sister looking after me, along with my busy parents. 

Christmas was a special time, we always had visitors, and my parents would be busy plucking turkeys that they reared for extra income on the run up to Christmas, which they would then deliver to customers in an old Ford van all over the Dales with me in the back. It was then, on Christmas Eve, I would tuck under my bed sheets in the freezing cold and hope that Father Christmas had brought me a book in the morning. I didn’t need anything else, just a book, Enid Blyton, especially!

I lived for the travelling library coming up our farm track once a fortnight, just to look for the next Little Grey Squirrel book or just rifle through the shelves looking for a book I hadn’t read.
Then like any child my teenage years were full of angst and my reading matter changed from lovely sweet stories to the darker side of life. Ira Levin’s, Rosemary’s Baby and Dennis Wheately’s To the Devil a Daughter were now my reading matter anything that caused my parents concern and got me into bother at school.
Thankfully my rebellion did not last long and I resorted back to classic’s, The Bronte sisters, being my all time favourite author’s. How could any one not fall in love with dark brooding Heathcliffe? The setting on the wild swept moor lands above Haworth not unlike the wild fell land that I was brought up with.

Now I am manager of a large print book firm in Yorkshire and have access to a host of reading matter, it’s like a child living in a sweet shop. However I still dip into my classic reads and enjoy them as much as ever.

I never thought that I would become a writer myself and I am still in a sense of disbelief. I hope that my writing reflects my love of the Yorkshire Dales, my family’s roots being there for centuries. I aim to include in my writing, my love of family life and the gritty realism that life in the Dales throws at you.  I love the history of the Dales, the people and the wonderful countryside. I hope I never lose the feeling of elation as I stand on top of some God-forsaken fell in the wind and rain, knowing that it is my home. I hope that you will love my Yorkshire and the tales within and please do feel free to contact me, I promise to reply to one and all.