February 10th 2016

Well, hello there, Playmates.  There you are. 

I’ve been very busy since my Angel book, THE MURDER LIST, came out last October.  I have finished another Angel called THE LIPSTICK MURDERS which is now due out on May 23rd this year, and I am working on another. 

Some people ask me where I get my ideas from.  The truth is I don’t know, but if I feel mischievous I say, ‘Don’t tell anybody, but I buy lists of them on line for 25p each from a little known shop in Invercockyleeky.’  Some smile and some frown at me and scratch their heads. 

I am still behaving myself.  My weight is static.  I can’t get anymore off.  And I don’t see anything of sexy Linda now.  She’s still with the NHS outfit Change4Life which has changed its name again to something I can’t remember.  She kindly rings me now and again to find out if I am OK, which is very kind.  Now I have to see two big butch chaps who tell me they are only there temporary. 

I remember when everything seemed to be permanent.  I don’t much like temporary.  I remember when dustbin men used to come and pick up our bins when they needed to be emptied, empty them and bring them back.  We didn’t have to wheel two or three bins out to the gate at a certain time on a specified day, hope that they might be emptied that day, then in the evening, wheel them back.  Sometimes with a sticker on saying you’ve put cardboard in the paper bin, or bottles in the grey bin or batteries in any bin, which is a hanging offence I believe.  Sometimes they were not emptied because of the bad weather.  And talking of bad weather, do you remember your school closing because of bad weather?  My school never did.  It was open in all weathers.  It was like the Windmill theatre.  It was open when there was three feet of snow! 

Well, Playmates, that’s my news.  Back to the grind.

Keep well.  Keep happy.  Keep reading.