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Here's a bit about me

I was born in the village of Haughton, nr Stafford, England in the early fifties. My father was very working class, he played football, went fishing and had a drink or two. Actually, he probably passed enough liquid through his body to put out the great fire of London.

The house we lived in was a bit of a slum, but when I was four years old my parents were allocated a brand new council house in a village about five miles away in Seighford, and there I grew up with my two brothers and three sisters. Money was tight, especially as most of it went up the wall in the boozer, but growing up in the English countryside was great.

However, the good times couldn't last forever; when I was sixteen, my father came home from work one night and declared England was finished and that we were emigrating to Australia. I'd found a job with a small painting and decorating firm and was just at the point of being allowed to do some glossing when I had to give up the brush and board a plane bound for Melbourne. Sixteen is a funny age to be labled a 10 pom and dragged halfway around the world.

Anyway, I wasn't much for Australia, too many poisonous critters for me, so when I was eighteen I came back to England without my parents. The experience was good, and the pay I got in the wool sorting shed was great, but it was fantastic to get back to dear old England.

Once back in England, I found work in the spares department of a garage, the job was okay but the pay sucked, so I got another job training to be a motorcycle mechanic. This job was okay too, but the hours were daft. They expected me to work all day on a Saturday, this wasn't a good thing especially as my girlfriend lived 60 miles away in Wigan and weekends were the only times I could see her. After a few weeks I knocked it on the head and found another job.

My next job was the last one that would see me lining somebody else's pockets, trouble is it lasted for thirty four years. Thirty four years in the same job I here you exclaim! it must have been exciting. If you think manufacturing electricity meters is exciting then I guess it was. Anyway, I worked hard, did some courses and promotion came easily which was good because by then I was married and would soon have two boys to support. I never planned to have a career in management, but I finished up in that role. I was responsible for 200 workers, 2million of output per month, went to meetings in the boardroom and helped shape the company's strategic plan. If you've ever heard a song by Harry Chapin, called "I Don't Want To Be President," well that just about summed up my position.

Like I've already said, I worked in that factory for thirty fours years, but eventually an opportunity for change danced in front of me. I didn't fuss about, I grabbed it with both hands and waltzed off into a new career.

I became a freelance writer so that I could work from home and hours that suited me. I wrote articles and advertising copy and all was well with the world, that was, except for suffering a near fatal heart attack. I had two stents fitted and now take so many tablets that I rattled whenever I stand up. Through this trauma I did a bit of naval gazing and found that I had developed a desire to write fiction. I entered a few short story competitions and on my fifth attempt I won first prize. I was hooked, and from that moment on I decided to concentrate on writing books.

I now have eight books published in various formats and I am working on another. When I'm not writing I am fishing and managed to win my local angling championship for two years in succession. In recent years, I have taken up painting and I've enjoyed many mediums from watercolours to pastels. I do a lot of pryrography, which I find most enjoyable because it is something I can do whilst working on the plot for my next book. More recently I have purchased a scroll saw and a lathe and I'm using them to learn how to be more creative with wood.