Wednesday 20 December 2017


Hello everyone,

Only five more sleeps to Christmas - are you ready for it?!

Great news this end. Christmas is a time for believing in miracles and if you'd like to read about one (with a dash of romance thrown in too) then the kindle version can be yours for only 99cents/99p over the festive season. It's cheaper than a glass of mulled wine and will bring you much more and longer-lasting pleasure too. Please help share and spread the word.



This book is the most special to me out of all my novels and will fill you with hope - hope for the future; hope for the impossible to become possible; hope for love and hope for happy endings.
Read it and you'll see what I mean.

Wishing you all a wonderful Christmas and a happy, healthy New Year full of hope, miracles and possibilities.

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Tuesday 5 December 2017


Sometimes a child asks a question which is an astonishingly good one and which I'd love to know the answer to, but haven't a clue!

Recently my twelve year old daughter asked one such question. It must have been driven by the fact that it was raining in London (where we live) yet again, and the question was this:

"Mummy, do you think that there's ever a time when it's not raining ANYWHERE in the world?"

I stopped, hesitating. Is it possible that at some point in time there isn't a droplet of water dripping from the sky anywhere across the entire globe? It seems unlikely, but perhaps this is even a frequent phenomenon - a dry world everywhere for sufficient chunks of time.

If you're a meteorologist or geologist or an expert in global weather, then please help me provide an answer. Or if you know anyone who you think might be able to answer my daughter's question then please share this question with others.

I hate not to be able to provide my daughter with an accurate answer, especially when I'm sure that somebody, somewhere out there must know it!

Happy thinking about it and here's hoping it's dry wherever you are.

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Tuesday 14 November 2017


It's not every day that you win an award, so I thought it was news worth sharing! It might not be an Oscar or a Grammy or a Brit, but for me it was just as exciting. A travel article I wrote for the Telegraph newspaper in the UK was nominated in the 'Best Cruise Lifestyle Feature' category at the CLIA UK & IRELAND CRUISE MEDIA AWARDS 2017. The competition around me was very stiff - I was up against some awesome journalists and really didn't expect to hear my name called out. And when it was I was SO excited.
Here's a pic:

Thank you so much for everyone who voted for me - it means such a lot. It's my first ever award and I will cherish it as if it was a BRIT, an Oscar or a Grammy!

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Monday 27 February 2017


A few years ago a friend of mine who’s an author said: “What a novelist really needs to write is a ‘what if’ story.”

He went on to explain that a novel which makes a reader sit up and take note and think ‘what if’ would be the type of book which would appeal to the masses. 

I’ve never tried appealing to the masses, preferring to write what I wanted to write, as opposed to worrying about what might sell to a reader.

A Call to Heaven was different though. Because I didn’t come up with the idea at all; my mother did. And seeing as my mother (who sadly died six years ago) wasn’t able to tell me the idea in person, she came to me in a dream. In that dream she gave me the title for the book as well as its premise and then she kept repeating over and over: “You must remember this when you wake up.”

I did remember it when I woke up because it was an amazing idea and remembering that dream still gives me the shivers just thinking about it. 

Amy is A Call to Heaven’s heroine and she too has recently lost her mother. What Amy finds herself in possession of (unlike me) is a phone with supernatural powers – a phone which allows her to call her mother in Heaven. Of course it’s about a lot more than that too. It’s about her abusive husband; it’s about a hot (skeptical) doctor she comes to know; it’s about a challenge she’s set from Heaven; it’s about love – love for a man (the hot doctor) and love for lost loved ones.   

As I was writing the book I wished that my mother could teleport me a phone like Amy’s so that I could call her too. As I was working on the book, I realised that I’d finally written a ‘what if’ novel. I mean really…WHAT IF such a phone existed? WHAT IF we really could communicate with the deceased on the phone? WHAT IF we could prove there was a Heaven and we could connect with those in it? How amazing would that be? Or, if you were skeptical hot doctor Daniel, you might not think that would be so amazing after all…

Is there anyone you’ve loved and lost and wish more than anything that you could speak to them again? 

What if…? 

Amazon US:

Amazon UK:

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Friday 24 February 2017


It's been busy, busy, busy here with the release of my new novel A Call to Heaven.

The reviews are coming in thick and fast and they are all FIVE STAR I'm thrilled to report.

This is what Shannon said on

This book. Man.

I have lost a lot of humans that are close to me. So, naturally I'm drawn to stuff like this. This particular book hit me in the guts. There were parts that made my heart pound, and rather than leisurely lay down to read, I was sitting and tapping my foot in anticipation of the scene unfolding. There's very specific scenes this happened with for me - but I don't want to ruin the book for those who haven't read it yet, so I'll just say - you'll know them when you get to them!

I enjoyed the story so very much, and felt sad that it ended. I guess for me that's how I know if a book is "great". I grieve the characters as the book comes to a close. I felt that with this one.

I sure wish I could get my hands on that phone. I have several people I'd like to hear it ring from. What a blessing that would be for all of us!

Highly recommend this one!

And this is what Laurie said on Goodreads:

This a perfect read for anyone who ever has "wished" to have a last conversation with a loved one who has died. 
The feelings of each character in the book as they struggle with their grief is so real. 
The main character "Amy" who has to contend with an abusive home and an unexpected loss as she perseveres, picks herself up and puts one foot forward to regain her life and help others-with the help of an old phone. 
It left me thinking and wishing I had a phone like this very special one. 
I loved this book.

To find out more and to win a paperback copy of my book (there's only four days left so hurry) click on this link:

Good luck and have a great weekend.

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Wednesday 1 February 2017


Have I always believed in the paranormal? 

The answer is: 'no'. 

When I started out in my journalistic career I was a TV Researcher on a paranormal show and as part of my research I had to interview psychics. I spoke to three psychics (each one in private) and all three of them asked me the same question: “Do you have twins?”  Two of them followed that question by saying: “I’m seeing a boy and a girl.” I hadn't yet had any children at the time and remember thinking that all these psychics weren't very psychic at all. BUT...forward-wind a few years and I gave birth to my first child. Or should I say children. Because it was twins – a boy and a girl! Do you think those psychics had actually been able to read my future?

I went on to work on several paranormal TV shows over the years and witnessed quite a few weird and unexplainable phenomenon – including being with the infamous Israeli spoon-bender Uri Geller, who frequently bent spoons in my presence. In fact, spoons bent whether he was holding them or not! It was the spookiest thing and, honestly, I didn't see any way/how any trickery/fraud was coming into play. 

The spookiness was soon to become more personal, however. For part of my research I read all Uri Geller’s autobiographies. In one of them was a section entitled: How you can bend a spoon with the power of your mind. It was a five-part process, which included: 
a. getting the spoon 
b. closing your eyes and holding the end of the spoon between your thumb and index finger 
c. thinking from your head down to your fingers and demanding the metal spoon to bend 
d. concentrating harder 
e. concentrating even harder.

I did all those things. I concentrated and then suddenly I felt the spoon burn between my fingers and dropped it to the floor. When I went to pick it up I was MORE SHOCKED THAN I HAVE EVER BEEN BEFORE OR SINCE IN MY LIFE. The spoon had bent over double. And I was the one responsible for making it do so. 

Ever since, not only do I believe in the paranormal, I believe that ALL of us possess some of these powers, only it's a power which is untapped. 

The novel I've just written - A Call to Heaven - is also based on a paranormal premise, because sometimes it's nice to believe that the extraordinary really can happen...

Check it out:

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Friday 27 January 2017

Have you ever wished that you could make a call to Heaven?

Well, now you can. My latest novel - A Call to Heaven - has finally come out. I'm really hoping this story touches readers and makes a difference. For an exclusive sneak preview, here's an excerpt from the book:

Everyone’s looking at me. I’ve got the yellow telephone in my hands and I’m not sure what to do with it. I take a seat at the end of the table and lay the phone down in front of me. Beth is to my left, Ben is to my right. Daniel is opposite me. I look from one to the other and feel color flood my cheeks. My gaze finishes on Daniel and stays there for a beat. He nods, his eyes encouraging me. I return the nod, take a deep breath and count down from three to one in my head.

“I’ve got to tell you all something.” My voice comes out as a thin squeak, but actually I’m surprised I manage to articulate at all. I’m hot, so hot. I lift the hair off the back of my neck, flapping it around to try to cool my sticky, clammy skin. I can’t breathe, I need air. I unlock the patio doors, flinging them wide open. The inside of my mouth feels rough as sandpaper. I’m desperate for a tall glass of water packed with ice-cubes but, when I turn to see six eyes staring at me, I dare not leave to fetch one. I feel like an exhibit in a museum and in some ways I wish I were. I could hide behind a Perspex box next to the yellow telephone with panel blurb doing the explaining for me. I could be part of a new exhibition entitled ‘Incredible Discoveries’. I would share the same hall as the dinosaurs and anything else which took aeons for people to believe existed. I draw a deep breath and continue.

“You’re probably going to think I’m mad, but I’m going to tell you anyway.”

A breeze blows through the open patio doors. 

“What I wanted to tell you is this.” My voice is soft as a whisper. I sense all their bodies leaning closer towards mine, straining to hear. “I’ve recently started talking to my mother.”

There, I’ve said it.

I feel a great sense of relief, both that I’ve said it and that I no longer have to keep this to myself. Beth relaxes in her chair with a sigh, leans across and takes my hand, patting it. She’s got wavy brown hair and a kind, open face. She tilts her head sympathetically.

“Oh honey, you must have tried out that clairvoyant you mentioned. Please tell us all about it.”

I should have seen that one coming. 

 “No, you don’t get it.” I lift up the yellow phone, as if to demonstrate how to use such a contraption. In one hand I take the receiver, in the other the plug. “I don’t speak to her through a medium. I speak to her on this telephone. I plug it into a socket in my bathroom and I’m allowed to call heaven.”

There, I’ve said it now.

Nobody moves.

Not a muscle.

Their mouths all open, Daniel’s is the widest. I don’t think any of them even realize they’re doing it. As feared, they are looking at me like I’m certifiably insane. 

“I can see you all think I’m mad.” I actually manage to pull a small smile. Now that I’ve started, I feel much calmer. “And, if I were in your position, I would think I’m crazy too. But one night my mother came to me in a dream and told me I could use this phone to call her in heaven and, bizarre though it must sound, it turns out she was right. That’s why I stopped coming to Grief Support Group every week. I wasn’t grieving so much because my mother had come back into my life.”

The three pairs of eyes grow wider and wider, as if I’m slowly sprouting four serpent heads. I replace the receiver back into its cradle and drop the plug, holding out my hands in submission.

“You can believe me or not. It doesn’t matter. But the reason I’ve gathered you all here is because I’ve been asked to choose three other people to call to heaven.”

I sound like a fairy godmother or the good witch in the Wizard of Oz. I do not sound normal. I pause. The effect is dramatic although it’s not intended to be.

“And I’ve picked you guys.”

I look at them one by one.

“Beth, I know how much it might mean to you to be able to speak to your daughter and know that she is safe.”

Beth nods. Her gaze turns glassy.

“Ben, I’d do anything to be able to give you a chance to speak to your brother again.”

Ben nods, his mouth still formed in a perfect ‘O’.

Daniel is the hardest one for me to look at. He’s not nodding anymore and his eyes are no longer urging me to continue. Instead he’s shaking his head, a slow, subtle movement, but I catch it all the same. His full lips have now formed a thin line. He’s the only one who looks like he still thinks I’m certifiably insane. Hell, he’s a doctor; perhaps that shouldn’t come as a surprise. Part of me wonders whether I should abort this whole escapade and pretend it was all a joke. I’d do anything to not have Daniel stare at me in this way. He looks ready to call the local sanatorium and send them round with a straitjacket. But I can’t abort and I must continue. What happens next is up to him. 

“And Daniel, I thought that maybe you might like to speak to Katie.”

He opens his mouth as if he’s about to say something, but clamps it shut again without speaking. Nobody else says anything either. They all shift in their seats, pretending to take sips of coffee and look around the room. Perhaps they’re checking out the photos on the mantelpiece above the fireplace, trying to work out if I look like a madwoman in any of them. I pick up the knife. Now I probably do look mad or, at the very least, dangerous. 
“Right, who’s for some more pie?”

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