Find me on Steemit

I am currently posting stories (under the user name on thé blogging site steemit. Click here to find my latest posts

Or you can click on the individual links links below

Current Serialised Ghost Story: “Haunted”

A family move into a big old house. The house has history. The family have history. Spooky stuff happens.

Part one

Part two

Part three

Part four

Part five

Part six

**Very short stories (stories told in exactly 50 words)**

“Belly Ache”

Miniature Tigers don’t belong in cages. You have been warned.

“The Lion’s Share”.

It is NOT his party, so why is the lion crying?

“Another Crime Involving Rhyme”

Someone is killing words. Inspector Poet is on the case

“When Rhyme Is A Crime”

Theft, murder, bad rhymes…

**Some more of my short stories**

“The Curse”

Will we ever learn?

“True Love”

Some people are meant to be together


Some people only have their memories for company…

“Mother Bot”

Don’t read this if you have mother issues.

Some big news for me! One of my steemit stories ([Reunion]( – told in 8 parts last month) has been selected to appear in the Isle of Write Anthology (see this post I am so excited to be a part of this. [Please pay them a visit]( and check out the other stories that have been selected too. You too can be curated: [so read the post and find out how!](

5 minute Freewrite story: “Empty”

At two thirty in the morning everything in the street is calm.

There is a trash can overturned in the alley on the corner where the deli sits, and a cat sits beside it casually moving it’s paw through the contents.

It must have found something, because it begins to eat. It doesn’t look up as I pass, it doesn’t notice me.

Perhaps, I do not exist. It is a thought I have often, at this time of the night.

When the streets are clear of the noise and bustle of human activity.

Perhaps the world has ended and I am the last human on earth.

Or, worse still, I have died and the world continues on and I am alone, unable to communicate with those around me. It is my nightmare, my terror.

It reminds me of high school when my friends (or at least that is what I thought of them) stopped speaking to me.

They ignored me .


This story was written in 5 minutes using the prompt “it is what I do at 2.30 in the morning when I can’t sleep.”

If you don’t know what a freewrite is visit @mariannewest here is a link to the introduction post:

Check out my original post on Steemit