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When Caitlyn creates Hannah in a game, Hannah saves her life.

Layered was first published as BELIEVE in 2013, and was initially only a novella with Hannah's story.

However, I always had the story idea for LAYERED in my mind.
Everyone who knows me well, knows I love playing SIMS. In fact, at home, I am actually banned from going near it, because once I start I cannot stop. I eat, sleep and live SIMS. Once upon a time, when I was still allowed to play it (and I am thinking I should get it!! Temptation is everywhere!) I had the ominous feeling that the 'people' on my screen have actual lives.
I also wanted to expand on my short story, WOULD YOU REMEMBER ME
Then all of these things merged together, and the end result was the complete story of LAYERED.
INTERESTING FACT: Initially, at the end of the story, Caitlyn resets the game Hannah is in, but my editor kind of hit the roof, and that part was deleted.
Essentially Layered is about teenage depression. Everyone feels sad or discouraged once in a while; but for some people, this mood doesn’t go …

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As part of her initiation, as a new arrival at boarding school, she has to accept a dare. Unfortunately, Alison's dare requires her to go into the dreaded room thirteen on the anniversary of Lily's death. It is rumoured, Lily, the girl who used to reside in the room killed herself on the thirteenth of February, the day before Valentine's Day. When Alison goes into the room, alone and afraid, armed with only an Ouija Board, the dead girl gives her a riddle, which leads Alison on a journey of discovery to find out what really happened to Lily. What dark secrets is the girl in room thirteen hiding?


When we Love: Chapter Nine



On Friday afternoon, I leave early because the band does not practice on Fridays. I am walking toward the gate, deep in thought, when I hear Johnathan’s voice call out to me. I look up and see him in his charcoal-black BMW, gesturing to me to come closer.
I shake my head, no, and carry on walking.
From the corner of my eye, I see him pull his car onto the curb and then he comes loping to me.
He weaves between the build-up of cars while they are stopping and going, stopping and going, trying to get out of the school grounds.
He laughs when he is eventually standing in front of me, and I look up at him. He is smiling happily and I wish I could wipe his smile off his face. I am just starting to get over him, and now, here he is again pretending as if nothing is amiss.
“Can I give you a lift home?” He asks.
“No, it's okay.” I smile politely. I would hate it if he knew how badly he had affected me. How he had hurt me.
“Come on. I want to talk to you,” he asks…

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What if everything did happen for a reason?

MY RECYCLED SOUL was the first story I wrote as a self-published/indie author. Both a nerve-wrecking and exciting experience. At the time we had been living in the Republic of Ireland (for eight years - a long enough time for a young person to grow roots), but then decided to move to South Africa. My daughter, then seventeen, was not happy and the first few chapters is basically her every mood and tear. 

Writing MY RECYCLED SOUL, I wanted my daughter to see that everything happens for a reason, even though we do not always see the gears and cogs turning in the background, and it might be years from now, when a person will realise all those awful things, sometimes devastating and heartbreaking things, were just stepping stones which led them to the place where they are now.

Sometimes I cannot decide if MY RECYCLED SOUL is reincarnation fiction or time travel romance. A new genre category should be created, maybe it should be called inter-dimensional travel :o)

You can get a copy of MY REC…

When we Love: Chapter Eight



Until not so long ago, the Mississippi delta region was still the centre of the worst excesses of racism in America, and it was a place of many undocumented lynching. In 1955, in the hamlet called Money, a fourteen-year-old Emmett Till, on summer holidays from Chicago, was beaten, shot and had his tongue torn out for allegedly wolf-whistling or saying ‘bye, baby’ to a white shopkeeper. His body was dumped in a river with barbed wire and a metal part of a cotton gin tied around his neck.
Although the racial violence and fears of the 1950s are a dim memory for most white people today, beneath the surface, racial division remains. Just down the road, Greenwood has a black mayor and a black police chief, but back when, white people rarely crossed to the black side of town.
In Charleston, where I live, white folk fought tooth and nail against the reforms of the civil rights era. Here they have proved more resistant to change. Despite the rulings of the US S…
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