The Cinema.


It’s been a while.

About three weeks ago, I received my second vaccine jab. It was over very quickly, and took place in a hotel that had been converted with super fast efficiency into a pharmacy. It was an excellent young female doctor who very quickly administered my jab. I was relieved it was her, and told her so,

‘You jabbed me the first time, ‘ I told her, sweating behind my mask, ‘ I know you don’t remember me, but I’m so glad it’s you.’ And I was, and she was lovely. Anyway, since then I have been itching to get ‘out’. Not in a lets go to the pub and get wasted kind of way – I couldn’t stand the hangover – but in a ‘lets see something different’ way. My eyes and brain craved something …

So we booked tickets for the cinema, now that it had reopened and the word I would us to describe how I felt?


This is how I felt, although without the skates.

Yes, just like the old saying I was ‘giddy with excitement.’ Not especially for the film, – ‘A Quiet Place II’ isn’t exactly Godfather Part 2 or even ‘Paddington 2’! ( In the realms of ‘Part 2’ films or sequels as they are known – nothing is as good as Paddington 2, NOTHING! ) but I quite liked the first part and I JUST WANTED TO GO TO THE CINEMA.

Selfish? Yes. I felt it was, but I still wanted to go, and the safety measures in place were strict and the staff were amazingly nice and efficient, just like in the vaccination centre – one usherette actually told three men off for not sitting in their allotted seats, and called them out, embarrassed them in front of everybody and made them move! It was GREAT! The Pearl & Dean music came on and I nearly cried. The audience was a third of the size of what it usually should be, but we were there together, a shared experience. We jumped at the jump scares and held our breath when we had to be especially quiet although someone did begin to eat a packet of crisps during the movie, which made me want to laugh out loud. Who brings crisps to a film called ‘A Quiet Place’??

I realised how much I missed the interaction.

Anyway it was soon over and we had to leave quickly wearing our masks. We’re going back again this Friday… and probably the weekend after.

My old local cinema, long ago flattened. Wish you were still here old friend.

*Both pics taken from the internet.

Scary Season …


Hello guys and ghouls. It’s the spooky month of October and when I’m not hanging around the *Wizards Den or up to my welly tops in mud on the allotment I actually write.

I thought I would let you know that I have two pieces coming out in the foreseeable future.

‘F is for Fear’ is being released by Red Cape Publishing on the 28th October, but is available for pre-order now if you’re eager. My story, ‘The Cemetery Birds‘ is in there, so give it a go, especially if you suffer from ornithophobia.

I also have a piece in a new anthology, called ‘Tick Tock’ being release by Black Hare Press. My story is called, ‘History Lesson‘. It will be available in November.

I would also like to mention a book I have got my paws on, ‘Japanese Ghost Stories by Lafcadio Hearn Edited By Paul Hearth.

I read the ‘blurb’ (horrible word !) and was hooked.

‘The dead wreak revenge on the living, paintings come alive, spectral brides possess mortal men and a priest devours human flesh in these chilling Japanese ghost stories retold by a master of the supernatural. Lafcadio Hearn drew on the phantoms and ghouls of traditional Japanese folklore – including the headless ‘rokuro-kubi’, the monstrous goblins ‘jikininki’ or the faceless ‘mujina’ who stalk lonely neighbourhoods – and infused them with his own memories of his haunted childhood in nineteenth-century Ireland to create these terrifying tales of striking and eerie power. Today they are regarded in Japan as classics in their own right.’

I have an interest in Japan, and read a lot of Japanese literature. Hope it’s good.

May I just mention the death of magician and ‘sceptic’ James Randi? I’m a massive magic fan. Love it. So when I heard of his death I was a little sad and then thought, ‘Hang on! He was 92!’ He brought happiness to many as well as sorting through the human stench left by the shysters who pretend they have a ‘gift’ etc. I won’t say “Rest in Peace”, because he didn’t believe in any of that kind of thing, so I’ll just say ‘Thanks for the Magic!’

Stay safe. Wear a mask. Wash your hands. Buy the books.

*The Wizards Den was a popular shop that sold magic tricks, fancy dress costumery etc in Liverpool. It is legendary. It was a remarkable shop full of amazing things, not that that mattered much to my brother who only ever bought ‘fake dog poo’ there, but takes great delight in telling the story. Brothers …

Dark London


I have a piece in a two volume charity anthology called ‘Dark London’ by Darkstroke Books. It is available here


My story is called ‘The Big Lad’. It is set in Hackney during the late 1980’s and was one of the most enjoyable pieces I have ever written. 

In the 80’s, I would visit family that lived there. It is the Irish side of my family, most people from Liverpool have an Irish connection, and I loved ‘going to the smoke’ to see them. It seemed like safer days back then, although it’s probably much safer now. As a teenager I would take the National Express coach – the 550 – or buy an Apex rail ticket for £21.00 !

My dad would always meet me at Euston or Victoria Coach station and we would visit wherever I wanted to go –  the usual touristy places. I hated Oxford Street, but loved Soho! Eventually we would end up in Hackney where my family lived.

He and his friends would meet up every Monday afternoon at their favourite pub, and if I was visiting then, he would take me. I was underage, but I drank lemonade… yes really. Sometimes a shandy ( google it )!! He would show me off to his friends. ‘Here she is! Here’s my girl’  – lots of oohs and ahhs – someone even patted me on the head. I should have been insulted, but I wasn’t, they were lovely. I had to put them in the piece!

 Each of them had a story to tell about when they first came to England. Most of them had roughed it, and it still irks me when I hear ignorant people (idiots) refer to them as Navvies or Thick Micks etc etc. They seemed to take it though, and would force a laugh at the ‘Paddy’ jokes, but they never forgot those insults. They did like their beer and their horse racing  – yes, cliches we associate with the Irish community, but so what? Good on them.

‘The Big Lad’ from my story is based on a real person. A pub landlord who, if you lived around the Mare Street area at that time, would probably recognise him. He was a larger than life character and the Victorian pub he managed was the perfect setting for my ghost story.

I think of my dad everyday, he’s been dead for many years now, and the family is scattered around the globe. I’m so glad my mam trusted me to travel to London – a vibrant, glorious, edgy city – nearly as good as Liverpool! I’m so lucky to have met all the old fellas of the Monday Club and to have experienced Hackney at that time. I visited about four years ago. I didn’t recognise the place, so much had changed which is a good thing I suppose. It was great to revisit those times through this story.

When my dad first came to England – he landed in Liverpool – he was 14 and had ran  away from a horrible home life. He worked in St John’s market by day, but slept rough at night. He was homeless – dirty, hungry and terrified – he would never romanticise about that time whenever he spoke about it. It was the kindness of a policeman, who found him sleeping in the doorway of a pub, and who took him to a local bakery that needed someone to start as an apprentice, that saved him.  

This is why I was happy to donate my story to this Anthology. The proceeds will go to  Centrepoint – a charity that helps homeless young people & The London Community Foundation. Something I know my Dad – and the Monday Club –  would be proud of.

Volume Two is available for pre-order right now, published July 2nd.


February …2020



How are you?

Here is what I’ve been up to lately.

I hope you had a very nice Valentine’s day, if you believe in that kind of thing …

My piece in Scary Snippets, Valentine Edition called, Buy a Rose for Your Valentine? Is a slightly horrific take on the whole situation!

I have also been featured by Black Hare Press in their year ending anthology, I don’t think I covered this in my last post, but here’s a quick link anyway.

And to finish (hooray I hear you shout !)

I am extremely pleased to have a story included in their 2020 anthology called A Song For The Prince. All proceeds will be going to animal aid charities in Australia to help with their care after the recent fires. Please help if you can.

Happy Holidays!


Hello! The very best of the season’s sparkly wishes to you and yours.

This post is just a short catch up. I have a couple of pieces out at the moment if you are interested. The first is part of  an anthology published by ‘The Gemini Wordsmiths‘. It’s called ‘ The Twofer Compendium‘ and is about twins. Some are good, some are bad and some are just weird. My story, ‘Room Mates‘ is definitely one of the weird!


I also have a piece in an anthology by Suicide House Publishing. Scary Snippets:Christmas Edition, is available now. My story, ‘The Older Traditions‘ is a folk horror take on an almost forgotten Christmas ritual.

It was great to work with Suicide House again. My story, ‘The Victorian Mirror‘ is in their Scary Snippets:Halloween edition and is still available.

Wishing you all a great 2020 xx

Folk Horror


A small post about a book reading / signing I attended last night at Waterstones in Liverpool.  Lucie McKnight Hardy the author of the magnificent ‘Water Shall Refuse Them‘ was in conversation with Simon Savidge.

The evening threw up some interesting points for me. During the Q&A after the reading one attendee (Audience member? Punter? I never know the correct term! ) commented that he thought the book , ‘was a beautiful coming of age story, that contained some horrific elements.’ I totally agreed with him. That’s how I find ‘folk horror’. It’s how the protagonist acts in their environment. The surroundings, however dramatic or alluring, always come with a charm that has horrific elements. Their failures or intentions, wicked or otherwise are exposed by it.

I won’t go into the plot of the novel, because any spoilers will wreck it for you. It does involve, witchcraft (maybe??), teenagers and death. All set in a village in Wales during the awful heatwave of ’76. There you go. It’s great. Please buy, read and recommend. I look forward to her next novel.

Of course I couldn’t wander around without buying another book, Murial Spark, ‘Memento Mori’. It’s an addiction!


Great books, great covers.



Keith Haring



New York Is Book Country 1985.

I went to see the Keith Haring exhibition at Tate Liverpool over the weekend. It is amazing. My partner is a huge fan of pop/modern art and was exited to see it, while I was a bit, ‘yeah o.k. whatever’. However, my mind was changed.

The paintings are gorgeous. Large tarpaulins crammed with hieroglyphic like images, that challenge those visitors who just glance and walk away. You can’t. You have to stop. They make you take notice.


‘The flying saucer is able to awaken, and achieve a higher state of being’  *Tate


Untitled ( Apartheid ) 1985

There is a curtained off section. Within, is a smaller exhibition space with flourescent lighting and great early 80’s disco and hip hop music being played. I could have happily stayed in there for a few hours. It felt like being in a nightclub – a proper one. Along the walls of another installation further into the exhibition, there are fly-posters covering it, that you would see in a club or band space – not so prevalent now as they seem to have been replaced with ‘social’ media, but they were interesting, an insight to a scene and a time I could identify with and remember. We stopped to read them. I miss fly posters. Home made ones.

There is an energy at this exhibition, something that is often missed at others. Keith Haring’s work is needed more now than ever with the narrow mindedness and right wing thoughts and theories being pushed about today. I mentioned I had been to this exhibition on Twi*ter and since then I have been pestered by a series of new ‘followers’, all family men, God fearing and wanting to set me on the right path … whatever that is.

I hope they’re just bots, but I fear they’re not.

Anyway, visit this exhibition. Please. It’s on until November 10th.


Homeless Jesus



‘Homeless Jesus’ The statue in the grounds of St Nicholas church, Liverpool.

I was driving past the Royal Liverpool hospital a few days ago. We stopped at the traffic lights. It was approaching lunchtime, the street was busy with people rushing to coffee shops and cafes. I waited for the lights to change, and absentmindedly looked around me.

In a side street, a man was laying on the ground. He was being treated by three paramedics. They were trying to save his life. A few people had stopped and were watching. The paramedics were working quickly, doing everything they could for him. I stared at his face. He seemed asleep. His tent and belongings were piled against a wall.

The lights changed, we had to move on. All day I thought about him. I hope he’s o.k.. I hope they got him into the hospital. I hope …

That night I thought I would look on the local newspaper site, just to see if anything was mentioned about him.  ‘Man saved in front of the hospital!’ ‘Miracle on Moira Street!’

But no, the man had died.

He had been found in his tent, unresponsive. People had walked past, going about their business, myself included. The article said that he was only forty, he was a dad – a good one- and as one of his friends said, ‘life had just got the better of him’.

A statue was unveiled in the grounds of  Liverpool Parish Church – St.Nicholas – this week. It’s called ‘Homeless Jesus’.  Casts of it have been seen around the world, Vatican City and New York included. The actual statue has come to rest here. I wanted to see it. I’m not religious at all, but it is very moving. There is space at the end of the bench for someone to sit. The question posed is, ‘Would you sit next to a homeless person? Would you sit next to a homeless Jesus?’

Some people wouldn’t even stop for a man dying on the street, and that is the saddest thing. We seem to have a forgot what compassion is. Life can get the better of any of us.




John Waters – Homotopia


We went to see a hero of mine on Saturday ( 10/11/18) – John Waters. I’d been looking forward to it since we bought the tickets months ago. The Liverpool Philharmonic hall seemed full – downstairs anyway – and the atmosphere was relaxed and welcoming.

The show was a part of the ‘Homotopia- I Will Survive’ festival in Liverpool, which ‘champions fabulous art’ from the LGBTQ+ community.

Mr Waters spoke for nearly an hour and a half about his life, his work, friends, actors – the Dreamlanders- and politics. He let rip with a monologue that was very funny – still laughing about the woman with the noisy blender who got punched, ‘BAM!’ – poignant – ‘my friends children are now the age Divine was when he died’ and at times vitriolic         ( The Pope, the Catholic Church, Trump etc ) which I loved. His irreverence and lack of over political correctness was just what I expected.

The evening ended with a Q&A which he was happy to conduct, and then there was a book signing in the foyer.

I remembered going to see his early movies at a cinema that’s long gone now.  By day it showed ‘Adult Cinema’. The evening was for whatever was popular at the time or weird, and it was only 50p admission! I think Mr Waters would have liked that very much.


An apt title.