Catalyst for changes

The opening of my first novel Heatstroke came to me in what Stevie Nicks would call a ‘crystal vision’. I was at work, seized by an impulse, and typed straight into an email what are still – give or t

I WAS only five when Elaine first came into my life. She was tall and dark skinned, with a perfume that smelled of roses and big necklaces in bright colours that bounced as she laughed. Whenever my da

MUM?” Becky said. “When did you know Dad was the man for you?” “What? Pretty early, I think,” Frances replied, taken aback. “It’s so far in the past, I can’t remember.” “It’s important. Try and think

What makes a novel of ideas?

Creaking into the dusty, lookout point, Jessie pulled on the handbrake. Jumping out, she slammed the door. Clouds of grit tailed her maxi skirt to the front of the camper van. Lifting the bonnet, Jess

EVERYONE seems to have a favourite season, don’t they? My sister, for example, has always loved winter. She says there’s nothing to beat a cold, clear day when the ground is hard and sparkling with fr