On the beast of Ballachulish and not falling down too much


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Destiny fought the images of barrels that bobbed into her head, not to finger the back of her neck either.  Why did Lyon want to put her on the spot as if he knew damn fine who put these barrels there and that person was not Divers O’Roarke? She had thought there would be nothing to this. She had thought wrongly.  But if she swept out of here now, what if Lyon swept after her in order to sweep her to jail? She must be patient. Rome was not built in a day.  By God it would have been had she been a builder. She sat forward.

“Well, if you’re not going to listen, I should at least like it noted that I came here in good faith, to save my skin should you discover that at the end of the day Divers—”

“I would need proof, Miss Rhodes.”

Proof?” At least she hoped she was being patient.  “Isn’t the fact these barrels were found in my summerhouse proof enough that you can hang him at the Penvellyn crossroads, a warning to any who cross the law here?”

“And let the crows peck his bones eh?” Lyon chuckled. Despite the fact the sound was not unlike these same rattling bones, she nodded.

“Yes.  Why not if he broke the law and put these barrels there?”

“Oh, I’d like to hang the perpetrator, believe me.”

“Then why don’t you?”

“Well here’s the thing, Miss Rhodes. He said it was you.”



There’s reviews then there’s Robin’s reviews.


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My pleasure today is to review

My pleasure today is to review

Shehanne Moore’s exciting book,

“The Unraveling of Lady Fury.”

There’s a back story worth sharing,

an unbelievable event left

Fury Celia Fontanelli on a quay

by a pirate-style Captain who didn’t

look back, commandeering his

large ship, the Calypso, off

into the Caribbean.

How embarrassing!

Fury had to keep going ~

life wasn’t going to be “easy”

nor ever “uncomplicated.”

Establishing her good manners,

throwing herself into society

with a goal to capture a

fine Gentleman who

could marry her.

These days we might say:

Fury needed to be

“back on the market.”

Establishing her genteel persona,

Lady Fury gets married to

Thomas Beaumont.

Don’t worry, this is not a

Big Reveal!

Unfortunately, Thomas is

long gone before the first page.

The setting is in Genoa, 1820.

An important mission must be

achieved, a Beaumont heir!

How this comes about, who

will be chosen from three

“worthy suitors.”

There’s Count Vellagio,

The Duke Malmesbury

or the Duke of Southey.

There’s a sexy scoundrel,

thrown in for good measure:

Captain James Flint Blackmoor.

This is a taut, tightly wound

plot in the beginning,

until the unraveling

starts to take apart Lady Fury’s

resolve and staunch “rules”

which actually form a contract.

❤  💓  💕  💘 💋  💗  👄 💟 💞  💖 ❤

So much fun, such steamy scenes

ensue. Please invest in a pretty fan,

to prevent swooning from the heat

generated from two remarkable

and most memorable leading

characters, Lady Fury and

“Flint” which varies to

“James,” depending

on  her  mercurial

moods and temper.

It has depth in emotions

and secret plot development,

motivating change and surprises.

The side characters like Susan,

Lady Fury’s personal attendant

(her maid, friend and confidante)

and the brothel keeper, Frau Berthe,

provide practicality and humor

in equally measured doses.

There’s not just Fury;

but a Storm ahead!

I hesitate to say too much,

preferring to recommend highly

this exceptional historical

romance novel.

I would give

this book,

5 of 5 stars.


Please check out

Shehanne Moore’s

blog which has the

invention of a word:


which needs to be

added to all




and if you are interested in her other

books, please look at her other blog:


Have a sizzling read

and terrific Tuesday!


“What did you say to her?”

“What do you think? I told her that her precious son was lost at sea.”

“You didn’t!” Fury did her best to keep her voice lowered, even though the Blue Chamber stood at the other end of the landing. The prescience that this only made things worse intensified. As if Thomas’s ghost had risen up to haunt her for pushing him on that staircase and keeping him in a box. “How could you?”

He frowned. “Because you didn’t leave me a whole lot of choice with that little story you told about his holiness, the Pope.”

“What was I supposed to say? That Thomas is lying dead at the bottom of the bay, because you put him there, after I kicked him down the stairs and kept him in a box in the cellar for several days?”

He canted his jaw. “Well, how about a thank-you for getting you out the hole you were in?”

“It wasn’t a hole. I just didn’t know he was a freemason. They keep these things secret.”

“And you didn’t seem to know he was a protestant either. Is there anything you do know?”

They were going to quarrel. It was not the place with Lady Margaret along the corridor. Maybe Flint had left Susan with her. But no doubt Lady Margaret had disposed of her and had her ear to the wall. Then there was Malmesbury. The thought of Malmesbury made Fury sick to the pit of her stomach.

“Flint, I am grateful. It’s just her. Lady Margaret. You have no idea how much she hates me.”

“Isn’t that funny? She was soon guzzling out my hand.”

Of all the nasty, recalcitrant, self-seeking toads. She supposed she should just be grateful. Even Lady Margaret wasn’t immune to this man. But when Fury thought of all she had suffered at that woman’s hands, and Thomas too, because of her silly dictate…

“Of course, you like to imagine.”

It was just the thought of Flint encountering that lack of immunity with other women. Women far younger and more beautiful than Lady Margaret. He was going to now. There was no question of it. Despair engulfed her.

It wasn’t wrong he was so handsome, so beautiful. It wasn’t wrong she had succumbed to him as all other women did. It was terrible.

Sighing deeply, he turned his face to the side. “Look, I did it for you.”

“Me?” Oh, that was rich.

“Hell. It’s not exactly like it’s a lie, you stop and think about it for a moment. It’s probably quite smart. Smartest thing either of us could come up with in the circumstances. ’Specially if his body ever washes up.”


The Time Mutants’ Guide to Time Travel with Paul Andruss


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The Mutants Guide to Time Travel  by Paul Andruss.

Please… settle down.

If you let me talk, everything will be explained.

I know this is unsettling.

But it is not your first unsettling experience, is it?


That got your attention!



Many of you fear you are going mad or perhaps caught in some nightmare; which is unsurprising after your recurring vivid dreams and the recent dislocation experience.

You are frightened and alone. Let me assure you. You are not alone. We have all been through the same thing: because each of us is related.

I see you looking at the different styles in the room, clothes, hair, cosmetics, and wondering if I joke. You think you know your family: parents, grandparents, siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins. You were brought up to view family as those around you. You do not to think in terms of deep time: about generations past and those to come. But you will learn. Believe me.

Why am I here? You want to ask.

We all carry a double recessive gene from our common ancestress that makes us time travelling mutants.

Oh dear! How to put this simply?

Genes are what make you look like your parents or grandparents. If grandparents, you may have been told it skipped a generation: this is a recessive gene. Over centuries, families separate. Generations later, distant relatives meet and fall in love. When this happens often enough, you are the result.

Our common ancestress lived in the early 21st century. Her name was Brittany Carter. She wrote romantic fiction distinguished by the fact her heroines time travel: her granddaughter to the Viking age and another, in a thinly veiled autobiography, to the 18th century.


I know many of you read her classic novels when studying English Literature, and perhaps experienced a thrill of recognition in their pages. No doubt you were taught they were written by that literary giant Shehanne Moore. A pleasant fiction I am afraid. Brittany Carter wrote these works. Shehanne Moore was merely her nom-de-plume. A ruse used at the insistence of her publishers.

But time travel I hear you protest, surely you need a machine like the fabulous TARDIS of legend, or perhaps a sacred circle of standing-stones to concentrate the Gaia force. Not at all! Our research at the Institute, shows time travel is simple. It is caused by the relatively common ability of psychokinesis: the power to move objects with the mind.

Historical records show many of you experienced poltergeist activity when you hit puberty. Would it shock you to learn poltergeist activity is in fact involuntary outburst of psychokinetic energy, brought on by hormonal changes? As you grew older you no doubt noticed the violent outbursts subsided.

About the same time lucid dreams began. Lucid dreams are a psychological term for vivid dream states where your conscious mind remains aware making it seem you are actually experiencing the dream as reality. If it seems so, it is because you are.

Such dreams are a psychokinetic by-product; a telepathic bond with your ancestors and descendants. It is widely known Brittany Carter wrote about her granddaughter, Malice, under the influence of such dreams. This is why we time travel during moments of heightened sensation, usually, but not exclusively, during sexual arousal.

At this point I need to tell you everything you understand about time is wrong. From an early age you were taught to view time as a progression of events paralleling birth, growth and gradual decline towards death.

Here are some ancient flick-books, please take one and pass the rest on. See how each photograph, taken exactly a year apart, shows the person moving from birth to death at a fixed rate.

 Normally we do not question this.

But think for a moment, even identical twins do not die at exactly the same time. Age is relative. It depends on a series of complex interactions governed by genes and environment.

In the 20th century the oldest person on the planet died at the age of 140 – which is nothing now; while children with the disease progeria died of advanced old age when no more than ten. Some individual cells, like cancer, never die. Others can be indefinitely held in suspension, such as the 5,000 year old seed from a Chinese tomb that grew into a magnolia tree when planted by archaeologists.

Aging is not due to minutes flowing into hours; days into years.

Aging is not time travel. The minutes and hours of your life merely mark the earth’s revolution on its axis and the year its orbit around the sun. Even a light year is a measure of distance, 5.9 trillion miles to be exact.

Stephen King claimed time particles, or chronons, were formed by the past colliding with the present and evaporated when the present dissolved into the future. Michael Moorcock agreed. Moorcock envisaged humans, called Time Dwellers, evolving to live permanently within a single moment. For Moorcock the only answer to the question: ‘What is the time?’ was ‘The present’.

Einstein, the father of science, did not believe in time. He said it was nothing other than a measurement of space like height, width and depth. To him we were no more capable of seeing the bigger picture than a word printed on the page can read the novel it belongs to. Like fish in a barrel we cannot see or understand the world outside, never mind swim in it. He explained it thus:

If a fish swims in a tank at 4 miles per hour, inside an airplane travelling at 500 mph, that is flying across the earth rotating at 1,000 mph at the equator, and orbiting around the sun at 68,400 mph, in a solar system spiralling around the Milky Way at 515,000 mph, in a universe expanding at 158,000 mph. How fast is the fish swimming? The answer is 4 miles per hour. That’s relativity.

If we stepped outside relativity, we would see the past, present and future happening concurrently. It would be like looking at a road from a hilltop. This is how Brittany saw her granddaughter’s life 800 years in the past.

You must understand atoms are not like specks of dust. They are infinitesimal amounts of electrical energy clustered into a nucleus of protons and neutrons and orbited by electrons. If the nucleus was the size of a tennis ball, the atom itself would be four miles across. This means most of the universe is empty space.

The universe expands in every direction at approximately 158,000 mph; as does every atom in it. Think of drawing two circles on a balloon then blowing it up. The bigger the balloon gets the more distant the circles become and the bigger they get.

If we could compact or expand an atom, it would automatically shift to the point when the universe was at the same density. In other words it would time travel.

The electro-magnetic force holding the universe together is the same as Gaia, the life force within every living creature. Outbursts of psychokinetic energy are measurable electric currents. This is how we time travel. Psychokinetic outbursts cause our atoms to contract or expand, hurling us through time.

The final question I am asked in this introductory session is: Am I immortal?

Yes and no.

Remember Michael Moorcock’s Time Dwellers living within a single moment? Like them we can dwell in a single moment of time and so do not age. But in that case, how did Brittany and Malice manage to live with their lovers?

That is relativity. As we cannot exist outside our immediate space-time environment, we take it with us, like a deep-sea diving suit. It is perhaps no more than an atom’s thickness but enough to keep us safe.

If you would care to get to know each other and work out your complex and often confusing relationships, there are refreshments next door. However, before you leave let me assure you, my fellow time-travelling mutants, you have long and interesting lives ahead of you, and many difficult skills to master. But master them you will. For we already know your future.



Paul Andruss is the author of 2 contrasting fantasy novels

Wanting to engage readers and build an audience 2 novels are available as free downloads in different E-books formats.

Thomas the Rhymer – a magical fantasy for ages 11 to adult about a boy attempting to save fairy Thomas the Rhymer, while trying to rescue his brother from a selfish fairy queen.

If you enjoy the Harry Potter & Narnia books & films? Thomas the Rhymer is right up your street

Thomas the Rhymer is the 1st of a trilogy.


E-Book Cover: Finn Mac Cool

Finn Mac Cool – rude, crude and funny, explicitly sexual and disturbingly violent, Finn Mac Cool is strictly for adults only

Finn mac Cool is a modern retelling of the Irish Myth cycles with a science fantasy edge.

Finn Mac Cool is a must for those with Irish ancestry or anyone interested in Irish legends and folklore. Ever since being a child Paul was fascinated by the phantasmagorical and strange. Blessed with the type of mind that squirrels away peculiar facts, he  supposed it was only natural these should become a central feature in his novels.

As Paul got older he often forgot where he found these oddities in the first place. Odds and Sods: A cabinet of Curiosities was born as an on-line notepad and sort of grew from there. Now it showcases the curious stuff he’s  come across when researching his novels. He also get a tremendous kick from sharing it with friends.

The blog includes stories from science, history, myth, miracles, occult objects & fabulous beasts.  Sample Posts:  HistoryBonfire of the Vanities / MythPhilemon & Baucis / MiraclesThe Lady at Lourdes / Occult ObjectsThe Turin Shroud/ Fabulous BeastsThe Horse Cock / ScienceAlma (Are Neanderthals still alive?)

Paul  is a guest Writer in Residence on ‘Smorgasbord- Variety is the Spice of Life’ where you can enjoy exclusive extra articles: Still Waving – the poet Stevie Smith / Marc Bolan’s Millions / Who were the Proto-Indo-Europeans? / The Truth of the Cottingley Fairies / Venus in Furs & Justine in Tears- De Sade & Masoch / Rosabelle Believe – Did Houdini return from the dead?

Why don’t you subscribe to both?


Music to Write Books By


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Brittany. Oh God, not you lot again. Darlings, don’t you have a cage or something to be in? Your little balls to play with? Hmm?

Brittany. All the better to amuse yourselves with then darlings. Now  then  what is it you want to know? So long as it’s not will I ever be  a nice Georgian housewife,  how to instruct a servant, or can you have one of my fags, or any of my booze, we’re good.

Brittany . But I do, darlings. So? Playlist? Well when she was writing the Viking and the Courtesan which I understand  is about my granddaughter Malice…

Shey listened a lot to the first  piece on this list, probably because she plays and has taught it several times too.  So obviously when writing more of the series  it was her starting point, just as Mitchell and I are. I think she found  the epic scope of it inspiring, although our story was not nearly as epic as all the things Malice went through, a shipwreck, a convent raid nearly being burned to death in a Valhalla style funeral in Viking times, being kidnapped, locked up and then incarcerated in a lunatic asylum in Regency times, all the time just trying to find her way to where she wanted to be. 

The rest though? Well, these were ours, pure and simple.  As to why darlings? Well, you’ll just have to listen won’t you? Any lines about smiling like you mean it which I do all the time, sort of anyway, being far apart on this old carousel,  and people rather being lonely than being by someone’s side, are of course incidental….




Write a love letter with the Kabrini Message and the Dudes


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We begin with our Synopsis:

The Love Story of Lizabet and Rick

York, England 1617

Both working on a large estate in Northern England, exactly 400 years ago, Lizabet Sirene is a wash and kitchen maiden and Derrick (known as “Rick”) Moutarde is in charge of the horses and stables.

Both are madly in love with each other but already spoken for.  Their relationship, therefore, they believe is forbidden.  They make a pact that they will only express their feelings verbally; stoically vowing never to act upon them.  They are determined to be honorable, above all else.

There is such passion, however; such a magnetic and seductive quality surrounding them, that although they fight their feelings for as long as possible…one evening in the stables, the unexpected (though greatly desired) happens.

Tremendous guilt follows, leading to self-destructive behavior in the form of disproportionate self-punishment, the enabling of emotional blackmail, manipulation and ultimately for each of them…varying forms of exile and incarceration.

Yet, through all of this, their emotions only grow stronger.  The more Lizabet tries to move on, the more she cannot forget.  The more Rick tries to think of something…anything else, the more he can think of nothing and no one BUT Lizabet and their one night of passion in the stables.

Though separated, each endures a similar, confusing montage of mixed emotions:  The euphoria, the feeling of freedom, elation and perfection of their one encounter of ecstasy, unlike any either of them has ever known or even dreamed of before…juxtaposed against the torment from those seeking to advance their own vindictive agendas:  All out psychological warfare and exploitation of  already overwhelming and seemingly never ending burdens of nothing but guilt, duty and obligation.  Until finally, one day…an epiphany:  This is futile, pointless and unbearable as well as ultimately…unnecessary.

Eventually realizing it is impossible to deny their true feelings and inevitable destiny; against all odds and despite tremendous challenges, Lizabet and Rick begin to find creative ways to communicate – ultimately breaking free from their (ironically, mostly self-imposed) respective sentences of house arrest and imprisonment.


Although there were other methods utilized as well, Lizabet and Rick’s primary means of communication was a hollow tree in which each left messages and small tokens for the other.  The messages they left were always seemingly innocent enough that should they be stumbled upon by the wrong set of prying eyes (in particular, their captors); no incriminating or self-identifying evidence could be found in them.  They were careful to express what they wanted to convey, but in a way only they knew the full meaning of.  This might seem to be a tricky situation, but being so in sync with each other; sharing one soul as twin flames do – they often entered each other’s dreams, read each other’s minds and felt what the other was feeling anyway, so it was not as challenging for them as one might think.

The Contest: Win a $50 Amazon Gift Card!

Pen your best Love Letter and deliver it to “the hollow tree”.


You may assume the role of either Rick to Lillabet or Lillabet to Rick – your choice.

For our purposes, to “hollow tree” will be a post office box.  OK, OK, I know…it’s not very romantic, but it works. And yes, old-fashioned “snail mail”!

In fact, if your letter is actually hand written on real stationery…better yet (We are traveling back to the year 1617…Helloooooo???…there were no computers, tablets, email, etc.!)

Choose one of these two themes for your Love Letter. Either:

  • Passionate (throw caution to the wind and just LET IT FLY!
  • Or…Loaded with “Dog Whistles”…meaning: Seemingly innocent if discovered, but containing lots of useful information as to possible ways to accomplish one or more of the following goals:
  1. Communicate
  2. Escape
  3. Tryst

*Hollow Tree Address: 


Mr. Rick Moutarde

P.O. Box 630

Absecon, NJ 08201

The most fabulous Love Letter will be awarded a $50 Amazon Gift Card.


The Kabrini Message

J.R. Egles



Science Fiction/Adventure

Word count: 73,943


They had finally made contact. And the world would never be the same…

Jeffrey Driscoll is a rugged yet charming adventurer with a hidden consciousness: when he gazes through the eyepiece of his telescope, he senses someone is looking back. Haunted by the stars since boyhood, he sets off on an exhilarating quest that takes him across the planet.  Not quite sure what he seeks, Driscoll only knows he must keep moving. Throughout his reckless escapades, Driscoll is often accompanied by Mondo (a childlike, affable young African), Mohammed (a surly, sun-blasted Arab) and Goldstein (a cynical New York Jew), an unlikely trio that never fails to plunge face-first into hilariously perilous predicaments.

When an uptight British archeology professor hires the ragtag crew for a dig on the Greek island of Delos, Driscoll stumbles upon a miraculous find: ancient crystals with celestial coordinates that will connect mankind with the Kabrini, a highly advanced alien civilization.  Driscoll’s groundbreaking discovery ultimately leads to Planet Earth’s first global space effort, the Legacy mission.

Years later, when Driscoll Mining and the U.S. Army complete deep space construction of the Kabrini communications network, the Legacy mission is deemed a success. Mankind finally makes contact…only to discover the Kabrini Message isn’t exactly what we want to hear.  The Kabrini view our civilization as one of heightened intelligence yet no spiritual enlightenment—a dangerous combination.  Although the wise alien race has the ability to offer mankind limitless knowledge and staggering technological advances, they fear our barbaric people will only use the information for evil.

As if to prove the Kabrini right, a fanatical terrorist group’s hunger for revenge leads to an explosive turn of events, threatening the Kabrini network; but Driscoll will stop at nothing to save the project. As his obsession with the Kabrini grows and the Legacy mission spirals out of control, he risks losing it all—his company, his grasp on what’s most important and the one thing he’s ever truly loved: his wife, Carol.

This thrilling Adventure meets Sci-Fi saga takes readers across the globe and beyond, from the jungles of Africa to London, from Los Angeles to Greece, from Washington D.C. to Egypt, from Jamaica to Vienna and finally to the deepest depths of space.  Join Jeffrey Driscoll and all of mankind on an unforgettable journey to alien contact and universal enlightenment in The Kabrini Message.




Barnes and Noble



YouTube Video Trailer









When Glittering Shimmerling met the dudes. Conflict in writing.


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Glitter Shimmerling meets the Hamstah Dudes by Robbie Cheadle.

Fairy Glitter Shimmerling,

had a “Bake and Write” blog,

the maintenance of which,

was a fun and exciting job.


On her blog she taught,

others how to bake,

her cakes were delicious,

make no mistake.



For each and every post,

she attempted a new creation,

her rose covered chocolate cake,

created quite a sensation.


IMG_2494One afternoon the Hamstahs,

came over to play,

they liked it so much,

they decided to stay.



The Hamstahs and Glitter,

became very good chums,

you could tell they were enjoying it,

from the trail of crumbs………………………………………………….



There were a few mishaps,

Sir Chocolate was nearly eaten,

The perpetrator was caught in time,

and his naughty urge beaten.



The blog’s protective cats,

were out for the day,

when they heard the news,

They rushed back without delay.


The kittens investigated,

with great precision,

and based on the evidence,

made their decision.


The two clever cats,

and the Hamstahs became mates,

together they nibbled,

every treat on the plates.



Half Guests will travel. Interview with Robbie Cheadle.


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Robbie. Well, Sir Chocolate lives in Chocolate Land where you can eat everything, even the trees, flowers and houses.

Robbie.  It would be a great pity to eat Sir Chocolate as then there would be no more Sir Chocolate stories.

Robbie. How about we compromise and you nibble a gingerbread house instead?

robbie 1

Robbie. I live in South Africa, far across the ocean from Scotland. It is very sunny and hot here and we spend a lot of time swimming and doing outdoor activities. The Sir Chocolate books series is a family undertaking and everyone has a role. Michael comes up with the story ideas and some of the characters, I write the stories in rhyming verse and design the books, Gregory edits our YouTube recipe videos and Terence (my husband) helps with editing the books. Gregory and Michael are both at school. Gregory started high school this year and Michael is in Grade 5 at primary school.

 Robbie. I do not have any hamsters but I do have two cats. Our cats’ names are Push-Push and Smudge and they are very cute.

Robbie They like to nibble on our fondant artwork and give it sticky kisses.

Robbie. Naturally, this is not something Michael and I encourage as we prefer our fondant creations without a coating of cat saliva. Our most recent victim of cat love was the Man on the Moon. We made him from fondant and cheese and he looked really great. We left him on the kitchen table while we went for a walk and when we came back we found that cats really like cheese. Our poor little Man on the Moon was missing his middle.

Robbie  Push-Push looks a bit like this:

Robbie. We would love to have hamsters but that poses the question of do cats eat hamsters? Or do hamsters eat cats?

Robbie I feel a bit like Alice in Wonderland as she fell through the centre of the Earth while having a debate about whether cats eat bats. Michael loves hamsters, especially, Humphrey, who is the star of his own series of books called According to Humphrey by Betty G. Birney. Humphrey is really amazing and you could learn lots of great tricks from him.

Robbie. I don’t have a recipe for hamsters but I do have a recipe for cakes and other goodies. You can find some of my recipes in Michael and my Sir Chocolate series of books. Each of these books contains a story about life in Chocolate Land told in rhyming verse, five recipes and a poem. The books are decorated with pictures of our cake, biscuit and fondant creations including one by Michael. Of course, each story also has a villain – what good would a book be without a villain. The villains that Sir Chocolate has battled with in our three published books are the trolls who guard the strawberry cream berries in Book 1, the baby cookie monster in Book 2 and the greedy snail in Book 3. Here are their Chocolateville police identification photographs:

The greedy snails were made by Gregory (back) and Michael (front)


Robbie. Sir Chocolate and Lady Sweet live in Chocolate Land. They have lots of adventures where they help make the world a better place and put things that have gone wrong in their village of Chocolateville right. Book 4: Sir Chocolate and the Condensed Milk River Story and Cookbook will be available in October. The condensed milk river dries up and the little water creatures are suffering. Sir Chocolate and Lady Sweet set off on a journey along the river to find out what the problem is.

Robbie. I started baking for three very good reasons: 1. I wanted my children to eat food that was as preservative free as possible; 2. I wanted a fun activity that we could all do together; and 3. I find baking very relaxing as I have a stressful, full-time job.

Here are the cakes we made for Terence’s birthday recently:

You can find the recipes and instructions for making these cakes on our blog robbiesinspiration.wordpress.com

Robbie. I have finished the first book in a new series of books for children called Silly Willy. The story is narrated by Cautious Craig, who is 8 years old, and describes the travels of his family with his very naughty and silly younger brother, Silly Willy, in tow. The first book, Silly Willy Goes to Cape Town, is set in Cape Town in South Africa and includes some fun anecdotes about trips to the beach, wine farms and even an ostrich farm. The Silly Willy books include step by step instructions on how to make many of the fondant illustrations and also five fun party cake ideas with instructions on how to make them. Silly Willy Goes to Cape Town will be available in early July 2017.


About Robbie and Michael Cheadle

Robbie Cheadle was born in London in the United Kingdom. Her father died when she was three months old and her mother immigrated to South Africa with her tiny baby girl. Robbie has lived in Johannesburg, George and Cape Town in South Africa and attended fourteen different schools. This gave her lots of opportunities to meet new people and learn lots of social skills as she was frequently “the new girl”.

Robbie is a qualified Chartered Accountant and specialises in corporate finance with a specific interest in listed entities and stock markets. Robbie has written a number of publications on listing equities and debt instruments in Africa and foreign direct investment into Africa.

Robbie is married to Terence Cheadle and they have two lovely boys, Gregory and Michael. Michael (aged 11) is the co-author of the Sir Chocolate series of books and attends school in Johannesburg. Gregory (aged 14) is an avid reader and assists Robbie and Michael with filming and editing their YouTube videos and editing their books. Robbie is also the author of the new Silly Willy series the first of which, Silly Willy goes to Cape Town, will be available in early July 2017.

Robbie and Michael Cheadle’s books

Sir Chocolate books – currently available

Sir Chocolate and the strawberry cream berries story and cookbook:

Sir Chocolate and Lady Sweet live in Chocolate land where you can eat absolutely everything. Join them on a fantastic adventure to find the amazing strawberry cream berry and learn how to make some of their scrumptious recipes at the same time.

Sir Chocolate and the baby cookie monster story and cookbook:

Sir Chocolate and Lady Sweet find a lost baby cookie monster. Join them on an adventure to return the baby to its mother and learn how to make some of their delicious recipes at the same time.

Sir Chocolate and the sugar dough bees story and cookbook:

A greedy snail damages the flower fields and the fondant bees are in danger of starving. Join Sir Chocolate on an adventure to find the fruit drop fairies who have magic healing powers and discover how to make some of his favourite foods on the way.

Silly Willy goes to Cape Town – available in early July 2017

Blurb: When the George family go on holiday to Cape Town, Cautious Craig cannot believe what he has to endure at the hands of his naughty and wilful younger brother, Silly Willy. Willy throws tantrums at the most embarrassing and inappropriate times, causes a commotion on the aeroplane and tries to steal a chameleon from Butterfly World. What is a poor older brother expected to do in these situations?

Follow Robbie Cheadle at:

Blog: robbiesinspiration.wordpress.com

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15584446.Robbie_Cheadle

Plus.google: https://plus.google.com/105609586198905397891

Facebook: @SirChocolateBooks

Twitter: @bakeandwrite

Purchase Robbie and Michael Cheadle’s Books from:



http://tinyurl.com/zdokqjr (The first three Sir Chocolate Books are currently available at a discounted price in hard copy and as ebooks)

Interview with the Earl


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I have a very special post today in collaboration with Shehanne Moore about her latest novel, Splendor. It includes a review and an interview with Ms. Moore and her hamster friends and even the Earl of Stillmore himself.




Carolee Croft/ First, the review:


splendor-byshehannemoore-5opct-1.jpgI just love Ms. Moore’s cheeky heroines, and Splendor is no exception. How can you not like a woman whose name is Dora and she therefore decides to name herself Lady Splendora?

She’s an honorary member in the London jewel thieves’ guild known as the Starkadder Sisterhood, but not a thief herself. In fact, she wants to help the poor, marry her sweetheart Gabriel and buy him a ministry.

Gabriel, as it turns out, is no sweetheart at all. But then neither is the Earl of Stillmore, a man who calls his servant an “overstuffed seal”. He reserves even better names for Splendor. Mostly he calls her names in his head, but sometimes he does so to her face… usually when she’s being a brat, which is quite often.

While Gabe shows his cowardly and whiny nature, the earl drives Splendor up the wall by “training” her to win a chess tournament even though she is obviously better than him at the game.

With shades of Shakesperean cross-dressing comedy and scenes that reminded me of Audrey Hepburn in My Fair Lady  and Confessions of a Shopaholic as Splendor by turns participates in a men’s chess tournament and then tries to pose as an aristocrat at high society balls, this novel had me laughing out loud throughout. It was also extremely touching when I realized how much these two have suffered for love (and their own stubbornness).

I would highly recommend Splendor as a fast-paced, funny and romantic read!

Now I have some questions for Shehanne Moore (and hamsters):

 Carolee.  How did you come up with the idea for this novel?

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Shey. Okay dudes can we stop this and leave Hamster Dickens out of this.

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Shey. What I meant to say. Now then Carolee, first of all let me thank you for asking me to your fabulous blog. I hope all your own writing is doing well. So looking forward to reading your next book. I have had the basic first scene of this novel a long time. Before I had anything published in fact.  I don’t play chess myself but in Regency times it was so popular there were clubs in most of the cities and matches between them too. Obviously the period was very constraining for women. So I had this idea of a woman cross dressing to enter a competition but running into trouble straight off and being challenged to a duel by the best shot in London. That was it. At that time I was trying to break into romance writing and sticking to the ‘sort of’ formula. The characters were pretty limp wristed. The heroine was a lady who had fallen on hard times. Her fiancé was a clergyman. The hero was a very decent sort really. No wonder the first chapter yawned on the shelf for years while I wrote four other books.

Carolee… What is it about Georgian England that appeals to you?

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Shey. Right dudes, can we stop it. I suppose that it’s where a lot of books are set. I have to say though there is nothing that appeals to me. It was a very different world from this one so I might say I set books there because I want to be bad to my heroines. Oh, ok, it is quite nice to set a book there and try and create characters who will flout convention in an acceptable way. I know that sounds sort of contrary but I mean I hope I make them tough enough to break the rules, to mold their world, as far as that is possible because of the kind of characters they are.

Carolee. Do you have an actor in mind to play Earl Stillmore or Lady Splendor?

Shey. We always have muses don’t we? I do anyway even for the smallest character. So yes. Aidan Turner for Stillmore. He has the right glowering impatience. And Drew Barrymore for Splendor.


 Carolee. Good choice! He was great in Poldark.

The Starkadder Sisterhood series has many fine ladies in it, Ruby being one of my favorites just because I think of her as a very unlikely romance heroine. How many more novels are you planning in the series, and will Ruby get her own love story?

carolee-1Shey. You know she is so unlikely as you can see from this extract from Loving Lady Lazuli…..

‘“Get ’im, Pearl!”

Dear God, while that would be very nice, if Cass didn’t do something, blood would be spilled. His. Of course it would be his own fault. But it would also be hers if she had to bury him in her herb garden. Besides she was unsure about Barron. Where he would stand on the matter of assistance. A broom handle may have been sawing his windpipe, but it did not mean he was one of them. What might be around the county tomorrow about her?

“Kill ’im! Toffee-nosed snout.”

Ruby sprung and Devorlane Hawley did not hit her back. Cass’s throat constricted, the noise that came from the back of it not one she would usually make. Men, certainly those of her acquaintance, would never do such a thing. Did or did her own back not bear witness to that fact? What Starkadder had done to her that day. And not just that day. Every day she’d refused to steal.

Of course, a corpse would make things inconvenient for her. Who would have thought he’d have retaliated like this, a powerful man like him, who had no fear of arrest, though? Plainly not herself or she’d never have opened her mouth. Let alone row with him over a kiss, a kiss she gave him so she could worm off the hook, a kiss which would be a complete waste if she didn’t stop this unraveling further, if they had to flee the county.

“Ruby. Ruby—no. No.”

“Get orf of me, Cass.” Ruby tried wrenching the handle free—no doubt because her fists weren’t good enough. “I knows whot I’m doin’. Stickin’ it ‘round ‘ere like ‘e owns the bleedin’ place. Smarmy—”

“No, Ruby!”

“’E thinks ‘e knows. ‘E don’t know jack-shit. ‘E—”

“Ruby!” ‘


Pearl who was her sidekick in Lazuli is quite unlikely too, I quite fancy having a go and giving each their own story. I have ideas for Diamond, Jade and Amber. So that’s definitely another three.  But I am playing with one for Pearl and it would be an awful shame to leave her out.  In fact, an idea I have been keeping for Emerald might well work better with Ruby. As you say she is so unlikely…..

Carolee. And for the hamsters… who was your favourite character in Splendor?

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Carolee. I also have some questions for the hero of this novel, the Earl of Stillmore:

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Carolee . Your first wife broke your heart. Why couldn’t you just get over it?

Stillmore  :

Splendor: Because he doesn’t like to lose. Not even a dud farthing.

Stillmore: I did get over it. I shot lots of people I challenged to duels. I drank. I went with women. What was that if not getting over it? Well?

Splendor : Being afraid of falling again, Your Grace.

Carolee : Do you actually enjoy playing chess, or did you join the chess tournament just to foil your former mistress and her fiance?

Stillmore. Me? Do that? Me? That is the kind of thing someone else would do. It is the kind of thing you would never see me doing. If you were not a woman, I would call you out for that but I would never call out a woman.

Splendor: Dearest, aren’t you forgetting something? You know….pistols at dawn.

Stillmore:  Well, what I mean is…  YOU were dressed as a man. How was I to know you were a woman?

Splendor : Well….

Stillmore : Oh very well, the answer is no. Obviously I am an excellent chess player. Indeed if Splendor had taken my advice, freely offered she would never have lost that ten thousand pounds. As for Babs Langley, had she not put me off my game, snapping the lid on that bracelet I bought her  before the chess tournament, I’d have won it. I can’t think what else she was expecting when I presented her with that trinket box.

Carolee You famously hate marriage, indeed you said-

Stillmore: Not me.

Splendor: Ahem..

Stillmore : I see. Well. It is a loathsome, hackneyed institution.  Suitable only for those whose picnic is several sandwiches short. I just didn’t know I was famous about it.

Carolee. But maybe with the right partner it wouldn’t be so bad. Do you think you would like to marry Carolee Croft? 😉

Stillmore: Me?

Splendor : Dearest, do be polite. In fact…..

Stillmore : Well, I might. Yes. I wouldn’t like you to think that is why my cravat has just got tight and I am sweating beneath it. But the thing is I haven’t married Splendor. I mean officially and I don’t know she’d be pleased. She might rip this blog up as she did that cheque for ten thousand pounds  if I said, ‘But of course.’ So really, truly, although I could, whether I should is another matter. Because of her you understand. Nothing else.

Carolee :Thank you so much, Shey, for joining me with your hamsters and your characters, even if some of them refuse to get married (ahem).




Moore Delivers Smexy


Brittany Carter must choose either to live in the present or in 1765. She cannot have both. In her present, she is finally starting to reach her goals of fame, success and money. Her romance novels are bestsellers! But success does come at a price. And that price is Mitchell Killgower.

Drop dead gorgeous and with a heart to boot. The man of her dreams, the love of her life, THE ONE she’s been waiting for her entire life.

But can she trust him?

Does she want to live in 1765 with all its inconveniences which she takes for granted in the present?

Is she willing to give up fame, success and money?

Moore is delightfully good at historical romances. With wit and intelligence she takes the reader back to Georgian England where bad-boy Mitchell is in the midst of an inheritance row when Brittany Carter literally drops into his life.

With the romance between Brittany and Mitchell as veneer, Shehanne Moore smoothly makes her way through the power struggles between men and women – using as backdrop a feisty, strong protagonist with present day relationship values trying to apply them to the relationship values of a man living in 1765.

One of Buddha’s famous quotes is

Happiness is a journey not a destination.

The journey to arrive at the ending of The Writer and The Rake is complex, entertaining, amusing, reflective, smexy and made me happy as well.

The Writer and the Rake is the latest in Shehanne Moore’s Time Mutant series.

Every night a different show……


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was the story of jute in Dundee. How it got there, how Dundee came to be known as Juteopolis and how the mills are all gone now, how the Irish came during the famine in their droves, quadrupling the population in no time at all in a city which was unprepared for the onslaught,  how they joined Highlanders being cleared off their land, courtesy of the Duke of Sutherland.


 But it was also the story of weaving  in the city and how the city and its people, who are not an easily impressed people, have always kept their story moving forward.  The title says it all. Halflins were children who did half a day at school and half a day in the mills. Hecklers? Well, Dundee gave the world the word.

Weavers  speaks for itself. As for the Weemin? To quote poet Dundee poet Ellie Macdonald… and I did get to quote these lines in the play and boy did it give me a thrill to deliver them.

‘For any woman brought up in the Dundee tradition there should be no straining for equality no, need for a new consciousness of the power of women. We have inherited a freedom which seems unnecessary to verbalize. We are just waiting for the world to catch up.’

Why did the women have this freedom? Because they were the family breadwinners.

Shey…Well…..talking that…  because there’s a story that William Wallace went to school in Dundee and got in a ‘rammy’ –a row–with the English governor’s son, Selby, killed him,

thus becoming an outlaw but not before being hidden by a weaving woman just outside Dundee who sort of suggested he disguise himself…..



Shey. Indeed. Dundee has quietly furnished the world with one or two weel ‘kent’ folks, or folks who were inspired by their stay in the city. 


Mary Shelley said Dundee was where she got her idea for the famous ‘unbeast.’  Ian Fleming’s grandfather worked in the jute mills here. We also had a scene involving from mill girl, to missionary to magistrate Mary Slessor.

She was also known as the Mother of All the People. So we had a wee song about her too , one of two we wrote especially for the show, here sung by the most fabulous choirs, Loadsaweeminsingin and The Lochee Linties. In the middle of the first proper utterly chaotic run through, what they had done from scribbled music with Mr Shey’s words had my jaw on the deck.


We had the world’s best known writer of bad verse,


William McGonagall …  with two of his drunken hecklers….

and an enactment of the only known instance of the famous Scottish play where the lead character refused to die.  We had a wee onstage riot courtesy of Dundee woman Mary Brooksbank who wrote the Jute Mill Song, a visit from Mary Queen of Scot’s ghost, .  And did I mention Winston Churchill, famously served a maggot in his kipper here

and flung out the town which, despite being the drunkest city in the British empire elected a prohibitionist instead.  

We also had a scene featuring Joseph Lee, Dundee’s fighter writer and forgotten WW 1 poet.  Michael Marra’s daughter Alice, also a professional musician, sung her dad’s amazing Happed in Mist as a solo at this point. It was stunning. Here’s his version.


and then Mr and I recited one of the poems before the scene started. Alice was so stunning I could hardly speak. For once.

‘I dreamed that a man went home last night, from the trench where the tired men lie.

And walked through the streets of his own, old town. And I dreamed that man was I.’

Shey…I played tour guide Em Fae Dundee, opposite Mr who played Ken O ‘ Dundee, the sort of keeping everything together hardly off the bloody stage,  parts, William Wallace, A singing Suffragette, and on the Sat night cos we were two members of cast short, Mary Brooksbank, mill worker Jeanie

and an American tourist.  Oh and on opening night I do believe I also played an unscripted football fan…don’t ask……….A certain blond wig was on the wrong props’ island at that stage…

Shey. Pretty difficult because none of the stellar cast ever intended to be on this play and so far as I was concerned my directing days were done. Five weeks before the play was due on the theatre company who had been involved pulled out.  Meantime the fabulous choir run by Alice Marra, had learned all the songs, several of which were  written by her late father, Dundee musician Mike Marra. Tickets had been sold. It took two weeks to put together this  cast under the name of  a theatre co Mr and I once ran.

 Oh and of this cast, if we now add in the sound technician, there were four originals. Lol, here’s an oldie.  Anyway of our ‘new hastily constructed’  cast,  only five had ever done any serious theatre work. And two who had, could not do the Saturday night. I had to think about the overall look of the play–hence the tee shirts and the cast never leaving the playing space, I had to think about the difficulties of that nonetheless wonderful playing space the High Mill at Verdant works, a former mill now a museum,   about  working each scene in a way that would let  folks who had never been on a stage, shine–for example rather than cluttering the Highland clearance scene with a cast of thousands, why not just have the whole thing read, even the ‘Be off with you’ bit from the proclamation, as if it was part of it. I also  divvied up the parts in a way that might allow them to rehearse together where they were related to one another.  We had the mill during the day but that was no use to some of the cast.  There was no time for blocking rehearsals going on for weeks, or technical or props ones either.  This play went out there on opening night having been run start to finish twice.  There were bits that had been talked through, in terms of business and props at a meeting and then only had one rehearsal. I have to say the cast were wonderful. LOL and I am not saying that cos more than my Mr were family.

And it’s not easy being right up against an audience, although, the audiences were wonderful, it’s not easy never going off stage either, although okay…we did have a slogan, ‘Every night a different show.’ That was in terms of the ad libbing Mr and me did after he did little things, like start the wrong scene, not know what scene we were meant to start. 

Shey…No doubt, all down to the fact that on opening night,  I spoke the word you never EVER say onstage or off…….

When, in  a noble moment as Mr wandered up and down waiting to hear the immortal words  ‘Turn Hellhound, Turn.’ and would be waiting yet since he’d cut the speech that made scene of the entire scene, and my older girl who had taken the sword fight scene off me the night before, stood saying, ‘ What do I do Mum?’ and she is trained,  I stepped forward and spoke. I also had McGonagall escaping the killing fields not floors. Oh well.  You know, a fabulous time was had by all. Mr Shey loved us for putting on a different play from what he wrote. And yep, the cast were so good, I’m glad they  all said at the after show party, they are well up for another run.. ….  

More Hecklers, More Hamsters and More Reviews


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Book Review:

The Writer and The Rake


Shehanne Moore


I can confirm Shehanne Moore is no Miss Barbara Cartland.

Now there is two ways you can take this news. If you are anything like me it will be with a lusty huzzah and an air punch. I was never one for simpering virgins and sex scenes discretely ending outside the bedroom door.

Shehanne Moore writes historical romance with a sci-fi twist that’s unapologetically smexy. For those who don’t know, smexy (her word, not mine) is a cross between smutty and sexy… raunchy romance in the raw… or is that with a roar? Cos, boy, does the gal deliver!

If you want a complex heroine, so feisty she could bitch slap you in a stand-up row, meet tough but vulnerable Brittany Carter – ‘brittle as porcelain and deadlier than shattered glass. An irresistible combination.’

If you like a ruggedly handsome man, oozing animal magnetism, you can’t go far wrong with Mitchell Killgower. He’s not so tough. Underneath them smouldering looks and icy demeanour beats a heart to make you melt. At least something will be wet by the end of the novel.

By that I mean if a ‘good man who needs saving from himself’ don’t bring a tear to your eye then you are no Brittany Carter – not matter how smexy and gorgeous you are – ‘darling!’

Brittany is a struggling historical romance writer and no simpering virgin. Like most good-looking modern women in their mid-twenties, she’s had her fair share of men; all of them disappointments.

The book opens when a stranger called Morte stops Brittany for her autograph. Or so she thinks.

To be honest she’s not taking much notice. The girl’s got a lot on her mind. Off to straighten out her finances with some crap-head she used to date – he took everything but somehow managed to leave her name on a mortgage he’s not paying.

Morte’s weird, more stalker than fan. As his ominous warning about making the right choice rings in her ears, lightning strikes him. Brittany does the decent thing: calls an ambulance; helps Morte live.

Wrong choice!

Next thing Brittany wakes up in a sixteen year boy’s dusty bed. Wound tight as a cheese wire garrotte, she desperately plays it cool, frantically struggling to keep herself together while figuring out what the hell happened?

The boy’s furious. Handsome dad’s furious too. Not with her; with each other.

All the while she’s praying it’s a nightmare and she’ll wake up. Gradually it dawns. She’s somehow travelled through time, back to 1765 to be precise. To a crumbling stately home in Georgian England and the middle of a bitter inheritance feud between handsome rakish father and puritan unloved son, and with a cow of a sister-in-law holding the purse strings and fuelling the whole debacle.

The Writer and the Rake starts at 100 miles an hour and never flags. It is an unrelenting tour de force; a dazzling pas-de-deux of searing wit and laugh out loud moments between Brittany and Mitchell. The frisson between them is tangible, popping and fizzing across the pages as they slog it out to gain the upper hand, only to have the other snatch it back.

Despite wanting to return to her own time Brittany can’t take her eyes off Mitchell; while he can’t keep his hands off her behind. So, what about Morte? Don’t worry, he’s there too. Intent on sealing his Faustian bargain.

When Mitchell sees Morte with Brittany, he’s jealous as hell of her secret lover. It’s just the spark they need for scorching emotions to boil over into reckless sex. Even if you don’t smoke, you’ll be reaching for that post-coital cigarette Brittany can never have because she ran out in the first few days.

Casual sex has consequences. Hell, Brittany knows that. But she’s not prepared for what they are. Ok it’s not the first time she’s woken in a strange bed. But this one’s oddly familiar. She’s leapfrogged forward to her own time to find she’s been missing for weeks, presumed kidnapped, and her books are now best sellers.


Morte picks his moment to explain it all; a drunken night out with the girls. Apparently she’s a time mutant – the mother of a dynasty. Shame she’s too pissed to take it in.

Talk about sealed with a kiss. One drunken snog with some bloke in the club and Brittany’s back to Mitchell’s crumbling house. Only one thing for it, seduce Mitchell and use the ride of her life to hitchhike through the centuries back to her duly deserved fame and fortune.

Here lies the rub.

Mitchell’s the man she wants, the one she’s been waiting for all her life. She knows it from the moment he sweeps her up in his strong arms and drops her on his big old bed. From the second he unbuttons her bodice, and she his breeches. If only he was from her time. If, if, if…

If this is her last kiss; the last time she can make love for fear of ricocheting through the ages with every orgasm, then there is no one she would rather do it with.

Life’s never that simple, is it Brittany? Not with destiny calling… loud and clear.

The Writer and the Rake is a genre-bending adventure. It confirms Shehanne Moore as an author who know today’s woman is as likely to be into science fiction, playing computer games or watching light porn as reading heavy romance. And Moore’s not afraid to give her readers what they want … without ifs, buts or apologies.

The dialogue is racy, witty and thoroughly modern. This is no cod 18th century comedy of manners. That would get in the way of the lust and punishing pace. Her characters are real: gritty, decent and flawed as the rest of us. And ultimately, as redeemable by love we all are. Though it’s bloody hard work for them sometimes!

And in case you are thinking this is just for the girls, I’d advise you to give it a shot, lads. Cos let’s face it… it does no harm knowing what your woman wants.