You may have visited this website as accidentally as I set it up. I never intended to blog. Vaguely thought about it, yes. The actuality of it came about by setting up a Gravatar, which resulted in my wandering into the world of blogging. Consequently, my meandering thoughts now lie interred on these pages.

Writing ghost stories more or less happened by chance, too. Unseen forces, perhaps. Seeing things, vague shadows, out of the corner of my eye, is surely just chance. Shadows. It’s always shadows. Shadows that flit by. Gone by the time you really look, of course. And that ‘corner of the eye’ phenomena is what prompted me to write ‘The Shadows of Tarnside Hall’.

If I told you that I write late at night, by candlelight, using quill,ink and hand-pressed paper, it would sound suitably atmospheric. Alas, I don’t. Fire risk apart, I’m easily spooked. Likewise, my preferred time for reading ghost stories or watching films of the paranormal is bright daylight time.

I lived and worked in rural Cumbria for twenty-five years. The Coniston Fells, the setting for ‘Shadows’, are wild, windswept and very beautiful. I climbed remarkably few, having a preference for being on or in the lakes and gazing up at the majesty of the mountains. In the summer of ’14, I moved two hundred miles south-west. Those two hundred miles equate to an average of two degrees warmer, often much more. The sorrowful cries of seabirds have replaced the sweet chorale of songbirds.

The light side of my soul yearns for the solace of water, be it lake, river or sea. Cornish seas preferred. I’m no longer a nine-hour drive from the wonderful south coast.

The dark side of my soul seeks out cemeteries and peruses the paranormal; I view the world through sepia-coloured glasses. In my spare time, I collect graveyards. I’m working my way through the Magnificent Seven of London.

Do get in touch. And,tell me your shadow ghost experiences. Only do it in bright daylight, please.