Category: Unspoken (Page 1 of 8)

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December 8, 2025 / / 0 Comments

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FREE download of the first book in the Unspoken dual timeline family drama series is FREE until 11th Dec.

lice is fast approaching her one hundredth birthday and she is dying. She knows she only has a short time left and is desperate to unburden herself of the dark secret she has lived with for eighty years.
Jessica, a journalist, is her great-granddaughter and a mirror image of a young Alice. They share dreadful luck in the types of men that come into their lives.
Alice decides to share her terrible secret with Jessica and sends her to the attic to retrieve a set of handwritten notebooks detailing her young life during the late 1930s.
Following the death of her invalid mother and her father’s decline into depression and alcoholism, she is forced, at 18 to take control of the farm. On her birthday, she meets Frank, a man with a drink problem and a violent temper. When Frank’s abusive behaviour steps up a level. Alice seeks solace in the arms of her smooth, ‘gangster lawyer’ Godfrey, and when Frank discovers the couple together, he vows to get his revenge.
Unspoken. A tale that spans two eras and binds two women born eighty years apart.

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Unspoken. A dual timeline family drama series

January 18, 2025 / / 4 Comments

Snippet from Unspoken

Alice is 18. Godfrey is a 38 year old married lawyer. He has been helping Alice set up a trust for the family farm to stop it falling into the hands of the jealous Frank.

‘Well, that’s about it, Alice, our business is concluded. I do hope we will meet again soon.’

‘Wait, please, don’t go yet,’ I almost begged.

He shrugged. ‘I’m not in a rush. What did you want to discuss?’

‘Dance with me,’ I said.

‘I’m sorry?’

‘Dance with me, before you go. We’ve had lunch, tea, Martini’s, but we’ve never danced.’

He looked around. ‘Do you have a radio or something?’

‘Much better than that,’ I said. ‘Wait here, please don’t leave, I’ll be back in two shakes.’

I rushed from the room and grabbed my beautiful, blue gramophone from its place next to the tallboy, then I picked up my record case, and returned to the front room, closing the door behind me with my heel. To my intense relief, he was still there.

I set up the machine and selected Fred Astaire, singing Night and Day. I lowered the arm onto the record, then turned around with my arms open wide.

Godfrey smiled at me. ‘I love this song.’

We danced slowly, and properly to begin with, one of his hands in mine, one on the back of my shoulder, but as the dance progressed, I moved his hand down to my waist and put both of mine on his back. My breasts brushed against his chest and a tingle, like a tiny, electric shock, ran down my spine. My eyes sought his and I pressed even closer. He attempted to lose eye contact but mine must have contained powerful, eyeball-magnets, because his gaze only left mine for a millisecond.

‘Alice. This can’t happen,’ he said, huskily.

I snuggled into his chest and laid my head against his shoulder. ‘I know,’ I replied softly.

‘It’s wrong. I’m old enough to be your father,’ he said, brushing his lips against my neck.

‘I know,’ I repeated.

His hot breath breezed past my ear, then he kissed my neck gently, from the ear to clavicle.

I thought my knees were going to give way. I pulled my head back and looked him in the eye again.

‘Alice… I’ll hate myself…’

‘I won’t,’ I said, truthfully. I moved my head forward hesitantly, then his lips found mine and my heart melted.

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Gone but never forgotten. My inspiration.

August 26, 2024 / / 0 Comments

The last week in August is always the worst week of the year for me as it holds so many sad memories. In two days time it will be nine years since I came home to find that Doreen had succumbed to the hypertension neither of us knew she had. It was the worst moment of my life. There was no preparation, I had only nipped out for twenty minutes. We didn’t know she was ill. The worst thing was not having the chance to say goodbye.
Three days before I found her I had released Out of Control. I was a children’s writer back then and that was my first attempt at a story for adults. I gave up writing that day and didn’t write a word in anger until five years later when I was off work with an internal injury that would keep me housebound for three months, and someone started whispering in my ear with an idea for a brand new series.
So, nine years on I’ve moved back to a cheap little terraced house in my home town and I still talk to her photograph a few times a day. I was never a believer in the afterlife, at least not the one promised us in the bible and (apologies to the God Squad) I still think that’s a load of nonsense, but… I have become a bit of a believer in multiple universes and the quantum theory that says there are an unlimited number of them and what happened to us in this one won’t have happened in millions of others. Maybe when we die we slip into one of these alternative universes or to another dimension. I don’t believe death is the end anymore. That spark of electricity.. the soul… whatever, has to go somewhere.
I know Doreen is watching over me somehow. I can feel it and I know she is helping me get through. We’ll meet again one day. Until then, she’s up on the shelf or slipping in to see me when I’m asleep. I’m sure she’s doing what she can to inspire the Amy mysteries as she was such a big fan of Agatha’s characters and Amy exists in the same timeline as them. I’m wondering if it’s her that talks to me in the strange dimension between sleep and wakefulness. I’ve always blamed Amy for it. 🤣
I’ll mark the day as usual with a short post but this week I’ll be trying to get the ideas down that have been whispered in my ear over the weekend for inclusion in the Seventy Summers book that I started to write last week. Last night I was given the plot for the first of the short mysteries that will be included and I’ve now worked out the structure of the books. There will be at least six of them and they’ll all be shorter than the Amy mysteries, around 60k. Each book will contain two short mystery stories that will slot in alongside the story of Alice and Amy’s daily lives at 70 years old. Doreen sadly never got anywhere near that age but she seems keen for me to get these books written before I slip into whichever universe or dimension it is, to join her.
Thanks Dor. I hope you know how much people enjoy the stories you help me with. See you soon.
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