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Write • Edit • Run • Repeat


WORDS, reading, writing. They have dominated my life since first being stimulated by the stories read to me by my parents, and the meaningless scrawls I scribed as an infant on whatever paper was nearby.

Rarely have I been without something I felt the urge to read; books galore, newspapers and magazines, fact or fiction, prose or verse, even manuals, brochures and menus. Whatever is to hand.

Reading is a constant, an endless source of learning, knowledge and pleasure.

Likewise with writing. Forever penning sentences since way back when. From being a regular pre-teen winner of writing competitions in the local newspaper to becoming a fully-fledged author of fact and fiction several decades later.

A relentless progression, even during National Service and despite detours into work as a butcher, a travel agent, cook and restaurateur. Writing and books were always my solace and companions.

Not even the scorn and disgust of my headmaster or my mother’s shocked gasp when I announced I was rejecting university in favour of an apprenticeship as a journalist could deter me.

“You could be a lawyer, doctor, accountant,” they chorused. Yeah, right.

Instead, I ploughed my own furrow as reporter, columnist, feature writer and editor. Travelling the world to report and comment, meeting and mixing with the famous and infamous, palaces and slums, luxurious retreats and scary war zones, the pompous and the humble, shallow show ponies and modest high achievers.

A wonderful life with work as a daily pleasure while crafting my own words and those of many others. And reading, reading, reading.

The culmination was the appearance from nowhere of Bromo Perkins as I dreamily sipped my morning long black in a Melbourne café. He came unbidden, told me his story and my delayed ambition to create a book was fulfilled.

Six books later (one in progress) he remains a persistent companion. Therefore I continue to write, as much for my own distraction and pleasure as for that of any possible reader.

In between, I devour the works of those far more talented than I, and encourage others along the path to publication.

Books, books, books; words, words, words. Welcome to my world

My books

Coming soon preview: Crossing the Line

Our sleuth is called back to head office to be sent on a dangerous mission to face a ruthless foe in deepest rural England.

Celtic Skeletons

The illustrated sequel to From Paupers to iPads sees an Englishman unearth hitherto unknown close ties to Wales, Scotland and Cornwall, where he now lives.

Death Comes By Drone

Old foes return; what seem like small-time local crimes bring Bromo into murderous conflict with former enemies from afar.

Twisted Trees

Family ties can kill, as Bromo discovers when he has to dig deep into a respected businessman’s hidden past.

Death by Diamonds

The past catches up: old battles and forgotten foes bring deadly danger to Bromo’s door and to his beloved daughter.

Washed Up

Never a moment’s peace: the riverside discovery of a young woman’s body shatters Bromo’s hopes of a quiet life.

Done Deal

Where it all began: the award-winning book that introduces disgraced undercover and reluctant sleuth Bromo Perkins.

From Paupers to iPads: a Journey Through Seven Generations

One for family historians: a journey of surprising discoveries across six generations of my ancestors in the UK and much further afield.

Reviews and Commentary

Definitely not ‘appy, Jan

EXCUSE the aspirated headline. My apparent descent into Cockney lingo has its reasons. As does the punning use of this Australian phrase that was rapidly popularised after being given birth by a Telstra television ad

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