My Amazon Author Page

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"A Scottish Wind in the Willows on high end skunk."

"I enjoy Kate's stories..."
"A fun and spooky read..."

"The characters are so involving and
loveable that you do want them to really exist. It does read like you've
stumbled across someone's long lost diary from and alternate timeline/universe.
I quickly got into the story and loved every second of reading it...
total gem of a read by an author who deserves a lot more recognition."


Wednesday, 31 July 2013

A walk in Murthly estate, a place I've never visited before and happened to stumble upon today.  Despite the sign-posted walk, I suspect you're welcomed only if you're a hunting and shooting type, with plenty to spend.  There are beautiful trees, interesting overgrown viaducts and odd gateposts that seem to lead nowhere, and I'd love to have explored more.  I kept thinking of Rebecca - "Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again."  However,  the mad barking of dogs was discouraging and I think I'll return another time with an ordnance survey map so that I know exactly where I can safely go.

Tuesday, 30 July 2013


My tale Psychotweeter (part one) was chosen as today's Throwback Tuesday on Shortbread Stories by Shortbread guest editor and blogger Adam West.  I wrote it a couple of years ago and followed it up with another three in the series.  A fifth has been sitting in a Word file for about six months - I must finish it.
They all seem apposite given the current Twitter storm.
Twitter - a lot less entertaining than it used to be.
Why?  Because much of the good-humoured banter from "ordinary tweeters" has disappeared, leaving space for an increasingly nasty,  aggressive element, corporate advertisers and relentless self-promoters.  One could of course argue that everyone on Twitter is a relentless self-promoter.  It's just a matter of degree.  I certainly think it can be a platform for the psychologically needy, and it has always been an ideal medium for the playground bully.
The present "vogue" for using violent sexual terminology is thoroughly horrible;  however in my cautious opinion I suspect most of those using it are youngsters sniggering behind their iphones or whatever, and personally I'd give them space to learn rather than prosecuting.  Anyone over the age of about 25 should know better, and how one deals with them is a different matter.

Here is the link to Adam's blog on Shortbread Stories, and the story.

Thursday, 4 July 2013

In the Yurt, with a Flamethrower and a Nice Cup of Goji Berry Tea

"I could get to like this Geoffrey." I placed a fresh log in the burner, then sighed contentedly as I lay back on a cosy pile of Val's handmade rag rugs and home-knitted blankets, and sipped a cup of Goji berry tea, made from home-grown organic Goji berries grown in Dave and Val's poly-yurt, and sweetened with sea-weed honey harvested by Dave from remote wild seaweed-eating bee colonies on the cliffs over on the Far Side.
"Me too.  Goji berry tea isn't half as bad as it sounds, " replied Geoffrey, who was munching on a cob of ultra-sweet sweetcorn, also grown in the poly-yurt, along with tomatoes, melons, aubergines, monster gabba-gabba fruits and various other new-fangled vegetables. "I think there's a tang of chili in there Tuppy.  What do you think?"
"Yes Geoffrey.  I think you could be right.  Definitely a hint of warmth on the tastebuds."
"I can't wait for Val to come in and give us one of her extra-special shiatsu treatments. My sinuses have been playing up something shocking.  You know I think she's right - allopathic medicine does more harm than good, and the natural ways are the best.  Perhaps it's time we reviewed the medical chest Tuppy, and ditched the old opiates."
"I think that's taking things a bit far to be honest.  That medicine chest has served us well over the years, and  we mustn't be rash.  Besides,  Val says opiates are permissible because they're made from opium, which comes from a plant.  Nevertheless - "
"Shut your pie-holes will you!" snapped Tuppence, who was standing guard at the "door", or "curtained entrance", with a cocked pistol, a flame-thrower and a machete stuck in his belt.  "Val says Val says.  Goji berry tea.  What is this namby-pamby crap?  We're not on holiday you gibbering fools.  This is serious.  We're Occupying the Car Park.  Remember?"
"What's wrong with enjoying ourselves while we're here?" I protested.
"Nothing.  As long as you keep your wits about you and remember to trash the place after, like we planned. You two sound like you're being taken over by the Dark Side.  Since when did you enjoy froot, Uncle Tuppy?  Pull yourself together, for pity's sake.  We've got a mission to accomplish."
"Which is?" asked Geoffrey archly, as he extracted a stray piece of corn from a cavity in his upper incisor with his favourite zircon-encrusted tweezers. "Ow."
"Don't play the idiot with me Geoffrey.  Not that you ARE playing, you witless, pathetic apology for a creature. As well you know, our objective is clear.  Trash the yurts, or failing that drive out Dave and Val, and take them over as a going concern.  Or the other way round.  I'm not quite sure."
"Trash the yurts?  A going concern?" I gasped.  "But that wasn't discussed, when we planned this back at the Outcrop last Monday. We merely agreed to mount a mildly disagreeable and inconvenient protest and then come home again once the food ran out and the toilet facilities overflowed.  You're taking things to a different level here Tuppence, and I don't like it."
"Neither do I," chimed in Geoffrey." I enjoyed Val's talk last week about alternative remedies and environmental friendliness.  I quite like her."
"Yes Dave's definitely the nutter.  Val's all right," I agreed. "When she's on her own."
"Perhaps we should rescue her from Dave!" suggested Geoffrey, eagerly. "She could stay with us, instead.  It'd be her choice entirely, of course, but I think she'd - "
"Oh shut up," snapped Tuppence. "We've got a plan, and we're sticking to it.  I'm the one packing, remember?"  And he switched on the flame-thrower, full-blast.