Echoes Of The Asylum By Sonia Kilvington

Echoes Of The Asylum By Sonia Kilvington

The strongest influence on my writing, and the inspiration behind my short story ‘Winter Baby,’ in ‘Nightmare Asylum’ was the amazingly talented, Helen Dunmore. Her writing is beautiful and dark; it is uncompromising in its willingness to explore what it feels like to face a severe threat, only to discover, that the most deadly danger of all, is already lingering, malevolently, inside of you! Her characters often seem to be on the verge of disintegration, and so are many of mine.

The lead story ‘Nightmare Asylum,’ is based upon a reoccurring dream I had in my twenties. In the nightmare, I was trapped inside a Victorian mental asylum. I knew that I shouldn’t be there, but no one would listen to me or let me out. I had encountered several scary looking psychiatric hospitals to visit a close relative when I was young. I knew how creepy they felt and how much people in my family feared them. Electrotherapy was a popular treatment for most mind-related ailments at the time, and I remember listening to a description of how it felt to wake from this horror; not knowing your own name.

Some of my stories in the collection were inspired by places. A couple of years ago, I was a guest writer at the Alibi Crime & Noir Literary Festival in Slovenia. On the first evening, we chose a folded piece of paper containing a title and had the following day to write a story, reading it to a live audience, the next. I felt inspired by the atmosphere in Slovenia and wrote, ‘Happy Death Day,’ incorporating the town in which we were staying and some local names and customs. Two other stories, ‘Every Move You Make’ and ‘Every Smile You Fake’ are set in Ennis in the Republic of Ireland, where I stayed for a while. I loved the quaint but slightly seedy undercurrent it had. The place had a classic noir feel, and I tried to capture that in my writing.

Quite a few of my stories contain elements of truth. I tend to write in disguise, subjugating my life experiences into unrecognisable scenarios. My story ‘Paranoid’ was based on a feeling of being harassed when I was younger. It starts out innocently enough. Boy meets girl, their eyes lock, then she finds this attractive stranger belongs to an orange-clad cult. The stalking begins, groups of people with tambourines were following me everywhere around town, urging me to join. I remember slipping out of the back doors of shops so that they wouldn’t find out where I lived. It got so bad that I couldn’t go into town on my own… Just like the character in my story.

Many of the tales are in Nightmare Asylum are based on fear, guilt, shame and loss. I will often take a complicated feeling, push it to an illogical extreme and then see what happens. Writing is an adventure for me, and I never really know in which direction it will go.

Sonia Kilvington Bio:

Sonia Kilvington is a journalist and fiction writer from the beautiful Mediterranean island of Cyprus. She has published many articles, travel features, short stories and interviews in glossy magazines. She loves to write dark and disturbing short stories in genres such as noir, crime, ghost and Sci-fi. Her online writing credits include Out of the Gutter Online, Spelk fiction, Pulp Metal Magazine & Near to the Knuckle. Her new short story collection, Nightmare Asylum & Other Deadly Delights – published by Close To The Bone, is available on Amazon.



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Birthday Expectations by Patricia Asedegbega.

  1. Birthday Expectations by Patricia Asedegbega

“Today is different,” Balou thought as he stood at the foot of Rosario´s bed watching her sleep. He would give her a few more moments before waking her up properly.

“It is my birthday!”

Balou remembered Rosario´s last birthday. Flowers had arrived from all over, at one point, it felt like they were in a flower shop. He, of course, had had a great time sniffing every single one that had come in, it had become a game as Adela tried to get some out of his reach.

“No Balou, this one is poisonous for cats, it will make you sick.” She had said on various occasions, moving the offending plant out of his reach. But it hadn´t only flowers, a number of breakfast baskets had been brought, of which he had sampled some of the ham, for, of what use were they to him if he could not eat any of their contents? The fruit baskets he had completely ignored, the people that had sent those obviously needed a Master class on the art of buying presents.

The telephone had not stopped ringing all day, a few at indecent hours when Rosario had not even woken up! Good thing that there were two telephone numbers in the house and most did not have her private line. The staff wrote down a lot of messages that day.

However, the best part was when the doorbell rang at noon and the opened door revealed Rosario´s family that had come all the way from Sevilla to surprise her. He had positioned himself in the middle of the staircase to know if to flee or go down, depending on who was on the other side. As soon as he saw who it was, he had raced down to greet his human grandfather.

“Balou!” The man had bellowed as he had been flung in the air and he knew that somehow he would be caught, even though, he was a cat, he always landed well. The rest of the day had been very satisfying for him, Rosario´s mother had taken over the kitchen and that woman could work wonders, because barely an hour later, they had all found themselves seated to a splendid meal. Himself included! His high stool had been brought from the kitchen and placed as tradition dictated, next to Miguel, that shared his roast lamb with him, not just the main course, he was given the excellent jamón they had brought with them, shrimps, roast fish…Oh, what a beautiful day it had been! Full of chatter… and food, laughter…and food and then…food.

So what was in store for him today? A cake made entirely from tuna? A room full of treats he could dive into and not be found in days? a whole jamón? A T-bone? Fillet Mignon? The images kept popping in his head, as he started nibbling Rosario´s toes. She moved her feet mumbling something unintelligible and he advanced to her face. Nothing like water to wake one fully up, the next best thing to a glass of said liquid, was his raspy tongue. He proceeded to give her a thorough wash. That method had never failed in the past, there was no reason it would do so now.

“Balou! It´s 4 am!” Rosario exclaimed as she opened her eyes and looked at the clock on her nightstand.

Balou stared at her unblinking. He had been quite considerate and waited quite a bit, occupying his thoughts with of ways his birthday could be celebrated, he did not understand what she was complaining about.

“Oh you little monster! I can´t believe you are three years old today. My special little boy.” Before he could escape, he had been caught in a tight embrace and covered in kisses. He suffered the torment in silence for a few moments and then wriggled his way out. That birthday tradition he did not in the least bit care about.

“Well there is no going back to sleep now, so let´s go and see if there are any presents for you.” His ears perked up at the last part as he ran ahead of her wondering what he was about to get, he had to come back as his human was taking her time wearing her sleepers. Why could she not go barefoot like he did?

She opened one of the bedrooms and Balou peered suspiciously in, wondering what on earth could possibly be of interest to him there.

The room had been completely transformed, there was a gigantic cat tree that occupied a whole wall. Full of levels, ladders, scratching posts, dangling toys, condos, hammocks…Balou stood in awe, it was almost at the level of the ceiling. Suddenly, he caught the whiff of something very, very pleasant, he approached his new castle and discovered that there were treats inside some of what one could only call ” the rooms” in his mansion.

“This is the best birthday ever! I can go back to sleep and you can discover what surprises await you in every compartment.” Rosario chuckled, grabbed him just before he disappeared into his kingdom, and planted a few more kisses on his head. He let her, she deserved it today.

“I wonder what the staff has prepared for me”, was the last thought that came into his mind as he embarked on what could only be described as the best culinary experience ever.

From the “Rosario and Balou series.”

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My Review Of  Robberty Bobberty And Friends By Rachel Coverdale, Illustrated by Shelly Oyston.

My Review Of  Robberty Bobberty And Friends By Rachel Coverdale,

Illustrated by Shelly Oyston.

Robberty Bobberty and Friends is a beautifully illustrated and told story for children aged 4-8. Even I quite enjoyed reading this book in the sense it reminded me of all the great books that brought reading alive for me. If I were a child I think this would be one I’d want to read again and my nieces love these kinds of books as they can easily say some of the rhyming words.

The story itself follows a cute bunny called Robberty Bobberty as his mother shoos him out to play and learn a new skill. But can an energy fulled Robberty Bobberty stop long enough to learn what his friends and the world around him have to teach him? You and your young children should read this book and find out.

I really thought all the little creatures featured in this book were well presented in a fun and beautiful way such as the frog with her babies growing in their eggs and the mouse with her carrot growing from the ground.   Each creature has something to teach us. I think children will really connect with the images as well as the little learning aspect throughout the book.

I also thought the end of the story makes this a perfect bedtime read for adults to read to their children and was rather calming and cute ending.

I would recommend this book if you have children who love rabbits and other cute animals all tied up in a fast-paced exciting adventure.


Birthday bloggers – Summer Changes, Winter Tears

Beautiful post xxx


Many years ago I visited the island of Malta, and although I have seen some drastic changes over the  years, it remains in my heart.  ‘Changes,’  told the story of an unadventurous young woman living in London, working in a respectable job,  then deciding to live in Malta when she falls in love with the place and the people.


Unexpected events in my own life gave me time to finish writing the book, and eventually it was published.  Fast forward several years, the publishing contract expired, and having learnt more about the industry I self-published the book under a new title ‘Summer Changes, Winters Tears.’  

 Amazon. Summer Changes link 

Summer changes cover pixels 850 1209 4.11.19 ebookWhat do you do if you’re a book blogger and have a birthday coming up? Celebrate by inviting authors to tell you about their books, of course. 😀 Having recently undergone the experience herself, Katrina made the theme for her…

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The Fifty-Year-Old Divorcee by Liz Hinds

It is Alison’s 50th birthday, her first birthday since her divorce from Brian. Adam and Chloe are her children; Pippa and Bev are her friends. We join her at evening time as she is about to go out for a celebration meal with Pippa and Bev.

The Fifty-Year-Old Divorcee

I did a twirl in front of the long mirror in Chloe’s bedroom. Not bad for a fifty year old, even if I say it myself.

Benjamin Bear was stretched out on Chloe’s pillow. I thought she’d taken him to university with her but I guess there’s not enough room in the bed for Chloe, Benjamin and Tryboy. I must try and remember what his real name is instead of using the nickname Brian gave him when he scored a try in a rugby game. But I mustn’t think of Brian now, not on my birthday. I must think of other things.

Oh-oh, but not Chloe in bed with Tryboy. I definitely must not think about that. Our roles have been reversed: Chloe is an adult having sex; I am a naughty child who forgets her manners in public.

When I was her age sex was barely on the agenda. Will it ever be again?              

Very very very late

‘Snot fair, not my birthday any more. I love birthdays. I love Pippa and Bev. Love Adam and Chloe. Love Brian. NO, no, don’t love Brian. Brian is lying cheating ratbag. Don’t love Brian. Brian has dimples when he smiles. Doesn’t smile at me any more. Only at bimbo. Brian left me for a bimbo. Bimbo, bimbo, bimbo. Don’t love Brian. Love me. Am new woman. No, Pippa and Bev are making me new woman. That can’t be right. Don’t want new woman, want Brian.

16th April

I am a fifty year old divorcee with a hangover. I might as well go the whole hog, bleach my hair, buy a black leather mini skirt and hang round dimly-lit bars.

John Morris, my favourite client, an old gent with old-fashioned manners, who always pays me a compliment, came in this morning. He looked me up and down and said, ‘You look different this morning, my dear. I hope you’re not going down with something.’

I was tempted to tell him it’s too late, I have already succumbed. I am old and unloved.

I once would have thought that forty-nine was ancient. Now I would give anything to be forty-nine again. I mustn’t be so silly; I’m just feeling bad because of this long-lasting headache – which almost certainly isn’t a brain tumour. I am very fortunate. I have my health (so far), family, home, and a job. I should be grateful. There are worse things in life than being fifty and divorced. I will pull myself together.


It appears that undesirability has rendered me invisible. I was in Eatz, waiting to place our sandwich order, when a young executive-type came in. Jeff looked up from behind the counter, where he was buttering bread, and said, ‘Good afternoon, sir, what can I do for you?’ I was so amazed that neither had acknowledged or even noticed my presence that I said nothing until Moira came out and served me.

I crept into the loo to check my appearance when I returned to the office. I was definitely older-looking and less attractive than I remember. I wonder how long I’ve been in decline. Probably ten years at least. The only wonder is that Brian stuck it out so long.

This is an excerpt from my first novel, This Time Next Year, available from Amazon. I am currently writing a sequel – by popular demand! In the run-up to the launch I am planning to narrate and broadcast This Time Next Year as a series of podcasts.

Amazon links

This Time Next Year

The Dog-walking Club

I have a writing blog:

and an everyday blog:

I have a Facebook page Not Another Wannabe Writer @LizHinds99

I’m on Twitter Not Another Wannabe Writer @Liz_Hinds99

Also but infrequently on Pinterest Not Another Wannabe Writer

and Instagram notanotherwannabewriter

Ask a Duchess! Lady Imogen Solves A Birthday Present Problem by Glynis Louise Donohue

Ask a Duchess!
Lady Imogen Solves A Birthday Present Problem

Dear Lady Imogen,

It’s my birthday next month and I fear my husband will do what he always does, which is buy me something he thinks I need, like a food processor, when what I’d really like is a diamond ring. How can I steer him in the right direction?

Thank you,

Sick of kitchen equipment


 My dear friend,

What on earth is a food processor?  Do you mean a cook, though I do not comprehend how one could buy one, precisely? It is true there was a disturbance amongst the ton when The Earl of Westchester apparently stole away the Baron Hutchings’ cook by offering her financial inducements.  It actually came to blows in White’s, I’m told. Our chef de cuisine, I might add, has a particularly good way of “processing” collops of veal, which my dear Ivo, the Duke of Sarisbury, enjoys very much. I blush to admit he says he likes the dish because the whiteness of the veal reminds him of a woman’s breast. He says this with a lift of his brow and a gaze at that part of my own body that I find quite thrilling. But I digress.

 My experience with the Stock Exchange has taught me that gentlemen need to feel the decisions they make are their own. You must not, therefore, ask for a ring outright. It is imperative he imagines he thought of it himself.

At dinner, while walking in the park, in the carriage, on any and all occasions, sigh and raise your ringless hand saying, I hear diamond rings are all the rage this year.  Lady Jersey is wearing the most beautiful creation, but, of course, one of her many…er, gentlemen friends may have given it to her.  Her husband has no taste.  Unlike you, my dear! And smile engagingly at him. Repeat this as often as you can.

Then, after a week or so, refer to the specific place where a ring might be had – Garrard’s, of course. On several occasions, have your coachman drive past their premises (just off Haymarket) and draw his attention it.  Oh, look, my dear.  There’s Garrard’s.  I believe that’s where Lady Jersey’s ring was obtained.

Finally, about a week before your birthday, drive past that establishment and carelessly drop your glove out of the carriage window.  Insist on descending to retrieve it. As a gentleman, your husband will naturally descend with you. You will not bother about the glove. Let the driver find it. You will take your husband’s arm, press your nose against Garrard’s window and exclaim, Oh! how beautiful, just of all things what I should desire!  Do look, my dear! 

Back in the carriage, not forgetting to rub the smudge from your nose, sigh and look down at your ringless hand repeatedly. In a voice of wonder then, and later, as often as you can, exclaim: oh, the rings in Garrard’s were so beautiful, were they not, my dear?

            If, after all this, your husband is so obtuse as to not take the hint, he is really of no use to you at all. I should immediately follow the lead of Lady Jersey and find yourself another … interest. ButI shall leave advice on that until another time.

            Good luck, my dear! I hope your husband comes up to scratch and you receive a ring, not a cook, for your birthday!

Imogen, Lady Sarisbury.

Imogen, Lady Sarisbury first appeared in the works of GL Robinson, her good friend and editor, to whom she told her story.  It was published under the title Imogen or Love and Money. If you would like to see more advice from her, read her story or listen to the first chapter of her fascinating life, please go to the website:

Her ladyship will be pleased to answer any questions you may have. Please contact her via the website above.  In view of the technical difficulties of communication with the early nineteenth century, she is unable to respond to you direct.

Glynis Louise Donohue

Writing as GL Robinson

Novels available on Amazon


Amazon Link



Birthday surprise at 76 Silver Street by Anna Shenton

Birthday surprise at 76 Silver Street

“It’s yer birthday,” Jack begged Rosa to sit at the table in the scullery.

“Me beautiful pregnant wife to be.” His smile spread across his handsome face.

“Bacon, two eggs and… as much toast as yer can manage.” He pushed the plate in front of Rosa.

A faint blush spread over her face as she laughed and pushed the plate back.

“I can’t face it Jack, I feel sick, and you know I hate bacon.”

Jack poured hot steaming tea from the pot.

“A good strong cuppa then?” he cocked his head to onside. “I have fruit cake for yer later,” Jack stirred milk into the mug.

Rosa cupped the hot mug in her hands and sipped.

“It’s nice,” her pretty cherry-brown eyes sparkled with love.

 “This is a first for you,” Rosa couldn’t hold back the titter.  “I know you are being kind and you’ve probably never made a pot of tea in your life,” she took another slurp. “But…”

“Ssh,” Jack strode across the flagstone floor and opened one of the alcove cupboards.

“I’ve been hiding summat from yer.” He reached up to the top shelf and took a box in his hands wrapped in a white tablecloth.

“Go on, it’s for yer,” he watched Rosa’s mouth gape and her eyes widen.

“I have all the presents I need,” she smiled looking deep into his dark charcoal eyes. “You are my present, my first true love and we…” she rubbed her hand over her stomach. “We have our baby to bring into the world. It may not be the best world, but it will have more love than anyone.

“I can’t believe that I’m goin’ to be a pa,” a tear rolled down Jack’s face. “He’ll have the best o’ everything. For once in me life things are goin’ good Rosa, and it’s all down to yer.” He placed the box on the table. “Open it then.”

“He?” Rosa shook her head. “What if it’s a girl?” She took the tablecloth between her fingers and gently unwrapped it away from the box.

Jack’s eyes fixated on Rosa’s dainty, freckled face as she lifted the lid and took out a beautiful golden handled hairbrush and sparkling mirror.

“OH, MY GOODNESS,” Rosa fingered the engraved pattern on each piece, held the mirror in front of her face and brushed the ends of her long auburn hair down onto her shoulders.

“It’s wonderful Jack, thank you.”

Jack planted a kiss on her forehead. “Let’s hope all our dreams come true?”


Anna Shenton Bio

Anna Maria Shenton (1954) –  I was born in Staffordshire, England and experienced an interesting upbringing by my English father, and a German mother. My two elder siblings also helped fuel my imagination deriving from a world of home-truths. My surprise half-brother from Germany arrived when I was twenty-six. Woow!!

I live in Staffordshire with my lovely retired hubby. We love to travel with our touring caravan – Any country goes.

Always loved to write. Kids flown the nest! I ploughed into a home study course with the Writing School of London. Amazing stuff!  Success with Star Letter Pages and Fillers for Women’s’ Commercial Magazines was encouraging.

Venturing forward, my articles were soon published in Hobby publications, Practical Caravan, Caravan Magazine, Modellers World and Writers Forum.

Poems didn’t go a miss either. Growin Owd – my pet poem – won World Book Day prize 2015 with Vind & Vag Publishing House, and, I loved writing short stories for writing group anthologies, where I used to be fund organiser.

Inspiration from life experiences, and reading other authors, helped me write Seduced by Mind Tricks, my debut novel and create short stories.

Want to share my love for writing, with – I wanna be a writer friend. My eBook Writing Spelled Out is devised and rewritten from my articles to help all budding authors. I am currently writing book two of the sleep with one eye open series, A  historical romance novella. 76 Silver Street, now available on Amazon and Don’t Go Back out later this summer.

Writers Authors and Readers online closed group is currently my passion.

Amazon Link





Summer Changes, Winter Tears. (Meeting the family.) By Val Portelli

Meeting the family.

The invitation to the family party would finally give Zoe the opportunity to discover more about the enigmatic man who had stolen her heart. What would his relatives be like? Would they take to her? As they reached the hotel, he was assaulted by a host of young children, all vying to hold his hand. Relinquishing “Uncle Reno” to her younger competitors, she followed him to where tables were set for lunch.

There was no mistaking the grey-haired, older version of Reno, who he introduced as his father. His expensively dressed mother had the aura and rosy-cheeked face of a country lass, and in contrast to her husband, was short and stocky, but in her youth would have been a stunning natural beauty. It was obvious that despite her diminutive stature, she was the head of the family household, and her husband adored her.

When she was invited to sit beside Reno’s father, Zoe was embarrassed to discover the reason for the lunch was to celebrate his birthday.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she said. ‘I didn’t know it was your birthday, or I’d have brought you a present, but thanks for letting me join you.’

‘No apology necessary,’ he smiled. ‘The greatest gift is the company of a beautiful lady. Now I’ve met you, I know my eldest son has inherited my own good taste in women.’

‘Ladies and Gentlemen,’ Reno announced. ‘Thanks for coming today. It means a lot to the old man to have you here to celebrate his birthday.’

‘Not so much of the old,’ called a voice from the head of the table. ‘You might think you’re all grown up, but I can still give you a spanking if you get too lippy!’

‘Sorry, Pa,’ said Reno, amid the laughter. ‘Friends and family, please raise your glasses to wish the “young man” a very happy birthday. I won’t tell you how old he is in, but it’s got a nought on the end and his bus pass is ready.’

To a chorus of happy birthdays and the clink of raised glasses, Reno resumed his seat, and there was more laughter as his father made a mess of cutting the cake. Teasing about useless men who could build a hotel but were hopeless in the kitchen, his wife took over before it became, as she put it, an ancient crumbling ruin.

A little girl of three presented Reno’s mother with a huge bouquet. ‘You deserve it for looking after Grandpa,’ she said.

He immediately grabbed the youngster, and tickled her until she was giggling and had to give him a kiss as an apology.

‘If I give you some flowers, will I get a big kiss too?’ Reno whispered in Zoe’s ear.

‘Only if you’re a good boy, and eat your greens,’ Zoe teased.

A few minutes later she laughed out loud when Reno returned chewing a cabbage leaf, and presented her with a few bedraggled daisies. Keeping her promise, she too had to pay her forfeit.

Voinks Bio 

The author’s pen name Voinks began as a family joke, and was the obvious choice when her first book was published. Despite receiving her first rejection letter aged nine from some lovely people at a well-known Women’s magazine, she continued writing intermittently until a freak accident left her housebound and going stir crazy. The completion and publication of her first full length novel helped to save her sanity during those difficult times.

A second traditionally published book gave her the confidence and experience to self-publish, dropping her pen name along the way when she realised that, although unique, it was not particularly memorable.

Her work now includes six books, including one co-written, two contributions to anthologies, and three more in various stages of progress. She also writes weekly short stories for her web site and Facebook author page.

Although her novels tend towards modern fiction, her short stories cover various genres including her trademark twist of ‘Quirky.’ Emigrating to Venus, where a day is over a year long, is a possible option to allow time to write all the stories needing to be told.

She always appreciates reviews as they help spread the word, and sales bring in cash to pay for food for the Unicorns she breeds in her spare time.

Summer Changes Blurb.

Escape to the sun and find the perfect man. What’s not to love?

A series of unexpected events encourage Zoe to adopt a new persona and leave dull and rainy London for an extended holiday in the sun. Life on the Mediterranean island of Malta is idyllic, especially when Reno appears on the scene. She determines to settle there permanently until a family emergency has her rushing back to her childhood home, and having to decide where her heart truly lies.


Summer Changes Book Links

Amazon Author Link.

Facebook author page.

Web site/blog.


Renza’s Dream Eighteenth Birthday by Jane Risdon

Jane with Only One Woman and Undercover: Crime Shorts

Based on the character of Renza from the novel Only One Woman by Christina Jones Jane Risdon

Renza’s Dream Eighteenth Birthday

I reach my majority next week; I can vote, and better than that I can obtain a Passport in my own right. If only I had enough money to buy a ticket back to England, to Scott and a new life. That would be the best birthday present ever. Fat chance. I need so much more money and it’s going to take me another six months to save up for the fare, besides, there’s no point heading back to England without knowing if I’ve got the job at the Foreign and Commonwealth office yet.

My imagination’s been working over-time all day. I keep seeing myself in England with him and the band on my birthday. There’s a huge party with lots of famous people the band know, all invited to meet me and celebrate my eighteenth

The party is taking place at his manager’s new pad in London, and there’s champagne and lots of lovely food for my guests to enjoy. Narnia’s Children are going to play for about half an hour and then Rod Stewart is going to sing Happy birthday to me – the cake is from The Ritz – and Geno Washington is going to do a couple of numbers with the Ram Jam Band. The Balloons and Doc Holliday and the Aces are going to perform as well. Just for me. But best of all Scott will play the latest songs he’s written for me and as Narnia’s Children perform them, he has eyes only for me.

David Bailey is there with Twiggy and The Shrimp, but he keeps asking to take my photo and everyone is excited telling me that I could be his next muse – whatever that is. Stuart Henry and Tony Blackburn from Radio One arrive with lots of their friends from radio and television and they’ve got gifts for me. It’s all so ace. Scott introduces me to The Who and Led Zeppelin who call in to have their photos taken with me and, after a few drinks, they decide to jam with everyone else and it is unbelievable. Scott’s as excited as I am.

We’ve come clean about our engagement and everyone is excited for us and happy, as we are. I’ve left everyone in Germany behind for good, I’ll never have to live with any of them ever again. Scott and I can get married. His band is going places, everyone says so and that means it can happen.

There’s a drum roll and the lights go out, except for a spotlight which follows Scott as he walks towards me, the room falls silent as he reaches for my left hand and slips a ring upon my finger –  a beautiful Sapphire with lots of diamonds surrounding it. Scott holds my face between his hands, gazes into my eyes and asks for the second time, ‘will you marry me?’ I say, ‘yes.’

My best birthday ever. Soon, in six months, it can become a reality if I get that job.

Bio Jane Risdon

Jane Risdon is the co-author of ‘Only One Woman,’ with Christina Jones (Headline Accent) and ‘Undercover: Crime Shorts,’ (Plaisted Publishing), as well as having many short stories published in numerous anthologies and writing for several online and print magazines such as Writing Magazine and The Writers’ and Readers’ Magazine.

Undercover: Crime Shorts is the February 2020 Free Book of the Month on the virtual library and festival site, and her live video interview features in their theatre. She is a regular guest on international internet radio shows such as, and The Brian Hammer Jackson Radio Show.

Before turning her hand to writing Jane worked in the International Music Business alongside her musician husband, working with musicians, singer/songwriters, and record producers.  They also facilitated the placement of music in movies and television series.

Jane’s Links:

You can find her on GoodReads, LinkedIn, BookBub, MeWe and Instagram as well as:…






Happy 1st  book birthday to The Lost Town of Man’s Crossing.

Happy 1st  book birthday to The Lost Town of Man’s Crossing.

It’s been a whole year of The Lost Town of Man’s crossing is out in the world. To celebrate this occasion, I’ve written a snapshot of my character Aidyn’s perfect birthday celebration… I’d like to thank everyone who has read, reviewed and enjoyed The Lost Town of Man’s Crossing this year.

It’s a cold night, the wind blows and I, Aidyn, walk the town naked with my wings fluttering and thoughts of a new world far from here in my mind. I’m a protector you see, a creature that helps those cross to this place and at this moment Suzy is the one I watch over.  Life as a crossing creature means you get to travel, in dreams, between worlds and visit the past. I let myself travel into a dream and creep past Elder Crossing sleeping behind his desk.

I slip into the travel hub and lay down like many humans before and close my eyes. I focus on the crossing Creatures long gone and imagine us all doing our job and celebrating a successful cross over. I hear voices and open my eyes and there they all are in our magic garden, some glowing all colours, some hiding behind clothes like humans. I join them and we sit under the moonlight watch many falling stars and pass around the cake to share.

‘’We stand together, not a creature alone and celebrate our true self. Happy Crossing Creature day.,’ The oldest member said as he stood and waited for us to join hands and dance under the moon with the songs of our kind playing on the wind. I felt loved here like all my efforts had paid off back home where I was the last of my kind.

The music stopped and I knew it was my time to return to the present day, to protect and help others travel. I took one last look at the faces of the past as they faded from sight.

“Ya better thyself up,” Elder Crossing’s disapproving face looked down at me as I opened my eyes. Happy birthday to me I thought as I followed him into the man shop where the hobble-fluff were waking, and old magical items called to me sharing their secrets. As beautiful as it was seeing old faces, celebrating the crossing way, the comfort of knowing I still had work to do reminded me that through all my ages I’m connected to something special.

Happy Birthday, Aidyn.

If you’d like to learn more about The Lost Town of Man’s Crossing, or follow Aidyn as he tries to follow his path and help Suzy here is a link to the book.