Thanks to everyone who has read my blog posts this year and has been part of my book journey. I’d like to say a special thanks to you all for giving me your time and your support. It’s great to have you with me. Without readers, bloggers, writers and so many other kind people, a book would just be empty words on an unread page…and I’ve made so many lovely friends this year. So huge thanks and love.

Next year promises to be exciting in terms of new books; there’s a new Elena Collins in February, (The Lady of the Loch…a spooky time slip set in a Scottish castle, glancing back at 1306 and the life of Agnes Ftzgerald.)

I’ve written a new Judy Leigh, which is with Boldwood Books currently and will be published later on and, on the horizon, a series of cosy crime novels which I can’t wait to tell you about…but more of that to come.

Right now is the time for me to send warm wishes from the heart. I hope your Christmas will be special, whatever you celebrate and whoever you share it with. May it be a time of rejoicing and looking forward. And may 2023 be a special year of good health, happiness and memores to cherish forever.

Recently, I blogged about my 30th wedding anniversary and, as some of you may have picked up on social media, I started the day by going for an exhilarating hike on Culmstock Beacon, a beautiful place to walk in Somerset. (It features in The Golden Oldies’ Book club towards the end, when Danielle and Mikey go for a long hike and share their thoughts on life.) It was wet and muddy up there – it’s quite exposed – but I wasn’t deterred. I trudged on happily, singing to myself as I marched up the hill, through the woodlands and out onto the open space past the cows and the horses. I squelched through ten inches of mud without a care in the world, then my foot caught on a tree root and I fell over with a splat into a deep puddle and a clump of spiky gorse. I wish I had a photo to show you but sadly, Big G was gaping at me for about ten minutes wonderng if I was alive, and I was on my back somehow, laughing and asking him if he’d like to give me a hand up at some point in the next thirty years…. so there was no one to snap the hilarious moment. It was funny, if not the most auspicious start to festivities, and I finished the walk, plastered from head to toe in mud. But it was a memory I’ll cherish, weirdly.

So, instead of licking our wounds about a soggy anniversary date, not to mention mud-filled wellies and a few bruises, we took off to St Malo, which isn’t a place I’ve been to before, but it’s very lovely. We spent a couple of days walking on the beach, mooching around shops, staring at buildings and scenery, talking to locals and drinking wine. There’s a fab cafe called FAVourite and, pictured below, an incredible little restaurant called Chez Arthur, the best Mediterrenan food and wine, and incredibly delicious and cheap.

Therefore, in place of a mud-covered grinning-from-head-to-toe me wearing a dishevelled Santa hat, which I’d love to show you but sadly, I can’t – here are some pretty pictures of St Malo in the winter sunshine, specially from me, wishing you a fabulous Christmas and thanking you from the bottom of my heart.

Sending love.

Here’s to 2023. See you there. xxx