Hi, Everyone, I hope you all enjoyed your Christmas and New Year celebrations…

Now Christmas is behind me and the New Year is underway, I’ll give you a brief rundown of my January plans…I’ve crossed keeping a day-by-day Diary from my Resolutions list this year. I invariably fail, and after a couple of months the daily entries peter out and my Diary reverts to an appointments book. Shame on me!

I will however write something everyday…no problem at all. Either a continuation of a novel or a snippet for this Blog…

As you know, HELP ME is now in print form, and the intrepid trio of Chelsea, Hamid and Ken are already drifting around in my head looking for adventures…Then there’s CHURCH CLOSE on the cusp of becoming an e-book. Computer issues have held me up for a couple of weeks, and I’ll risk tempting fate and report that they’re solved now. Touch wood, fingers crossed, etc!

Church Close is currently being polished and re-edited and will be on Kindle this month…

Regards, Betty






ArtsyBee / Pixabay


My latest novel HELP ME was published yesterday as a paperback…
So, those of you who wanted to give it as a Christmas  present, it’s now available.

A very satisfying end to a horrendous week of unreliable broadband [local fault] and a central heating breakdown in sub-zero temperatures didn’t help!  All fixed now.

Are you all ready for Christmas? Presents bought, cards written?

Still checking address for a couple of cards…and then I must turn my mind to food. Who likes what? Which puts me in mind of a character floating around in my head…not sure if she’s going to join the cast of Church Close, my novel in progress, or plague Chelsea and Hamid in their follow-up book of Wallace Associates…

Meet Peculiar Mary who seems to have a different fad every time you see her. Last Christmas she took everyone by surprise when she announced she was a  vegetarian. She didn’t looked too pleased when her slices of turkey were replaced with Brussel sprouts and a carrot substituted the sausage wrapped in bacon. She likes to be the centre of attention and is a constant challenge to everyone she meets…

Where would you like to meet Mary?

Would you like to be in the book? Send me your name and your reason why…











Good morning… from a grey and wet UK.

I thought I would tell you about the new book I am working on…Well, not exactly new, I was writing it at the same time as HELP ME and switched from one to the other…But Ghost Ken took over and insisted that I concentrated only on his story. That is out of the way now, although a follow-up is simmering on the back burner…

I am now free to tell you about Gina. She is a well meaning do-gooder, a bit of a romantic, who wants to help everyone, She lives on Church Close, a small development of six houses on the edge of the fictitious town of Thorpefield. She takes a close interest in her neighbours and considers there are too many long faces, and decides that they need cheering up. They need the companionship of a pet. What could be better than something that loves you, never judges, never argues…

She makes Disney-like plans to deliver one secretly to each unsuspecting household—

Unfortunately, her plans go awry…but when did anything go without a hitch?

Cheers, Betty.









My latest book HELP ME. a modern ghost story, was published a week ago… but then, horror of horrors, I discovered that there was a blip in the upload to the Kindle site I was alerted by the Read Me section on the Amazon sales page where I found numerous splits in the lines…which led me to checking the whole upload…I was devastated by so many errors….the file I’d used was perfect! I attempted to correct these but my efforts didn’t work…so frustrating! I appealed to Amazon for help.

They came up trumps, and the amended edition was on the shelves yesterday.

Happy Reading! Please let me know what you think.






November News Letter


Engin_Akyurt / Pixabay

I’ve been busy working on two novellas, and the first, HELP ME, is going through its last read-through before publication on Amazon.

If you are a fan of supernatural fantasy, with a touch of humour, this is especially for you!

Chelsea, who works as Security at a supermarket, doesn’t know her house is haunted—until the ghost introduces himself. When she recovers from her fright, she is intrigued to find out that he needs her help. He was murdered in her house—and wants justice. He asks her to track down his murderer. His wife.

He looks like an ordinary man, good-looking, charming, courteous, and asks her to call him Ken. A reader of detective fiction, she decides she will try, and enlists the  help of Hamid, her assistant at work. He is spooked by Ken, and finds it hard to interact, but agrees to help.

As the story unfolds, Chelsea is confronted by the past she thought she had left behind—her shop-lifting mother—Is she involved in two major incidents at the supermarket?

Only one way to find out…I’ll let you know when the e-book hits the shelves!



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Everyone clustered in the backroom doorway to stare at Vince.

“Come in, come in,” he said grandly, seeming unaware of their dumbstruck expressions. “I’ll just run through what’s needed to get this sorry play resurrected and then you can get down to it. Chop-chop. Quickly now! Time’s short.”

“You can’t just walk in and order us about,” Gordon said. “You left.”

“And now I’m back, and just in time, methinks, to save this floundering Group from sinking into oblivion…”

“Who the hell do you think you are?” Bill asked, poking his head over Gordon’s shoulder. “We’re not floundering!”

“Your Producer, of course. It’s my job to…”

“We already have a producer,” Gavin said.

“What?” Vernon scrunched his eyes up to find the dissident. “I don’t know you, sir. Will you please stop interfering in something that doesn’t concern you.”

Gavin drew an angry breath and I put my hand on his arm. Someone said, “Tell him, Jenny.”

I cleared my throat. “It’s like this, Vernon. You were our producer of the Shakespeare thing—”

“A Tribute to the Bard, written by my good self,” he chipped in, in case we’d forgotten.

“—and as you…um…disappeared—”

“Took a Sabbatical,” he corrected.

“—we had to find someone else,” I said, at my most tactful. “George—”

“Who’s taking my name in vain?” asked a jovial voice as a hand landed heavily on my shoulder. “I’ve come to a decision. Jenny. What’s done is done, but next time you take it into your pretty little head to make a managerial decision, run it past me first, hmmmm?”

I twisted round to glare at him. Condescending jerk!

There were murmurs of disapproval and he smiled his toothpaste ad smile, holding a supermarket bag on high.

“I’ve brought a selection of cakes as a good will gesture. Time to draw a line in the sand and stop acting like school kids! Somebody put the kettle on. We’ll have a quick brew and then do a run-through, kind of limber up for tonight’s show. We’ll do our very best, free or otherwise….”

“It will have to be a damn sight better than last Saturday. That was an utter and complete disaster,” Vernon said, putting his specs on so he could see George clearly. “I know you now, you’re the man who gave that silly sick-making speech at the end…”

“How dare you!” George yelled after a frozen moment of surprise.  “I don’t know you. Who are you?”

“Your Producer,” Vernon said, exasperated. “How many more times do I have to say it?”

“Liar!” George spat, drawing himself to his full height, jabbing his chest with his thumb. “Me! I’m the Producer. Me!”

“You, sir, are an upstart who usurped my position in my absence,” Vernon said grandly. “You couldn’t produce a rabbit from a hat even if it surrendered!”

I was struck by how alike they were in manner and stature. Both red in the face. Talk about not acting like kids!

“Tweedledum and Tweedledee,” Jon murmured.

“Insolent boy!” Vernon said, beating George to it.

“Hey, come on now, boys!” I said, doing my peacekeeper thing. “You’re not in the playground—”

“Act like grown men and pull together,” Gordon said. “We’ve a play to put on…”

“I know that! I’m the Producer,” Vernon said.

“Not on your nelly!” George spat. “I’m the Producer!”

“How about you be the Director, George?” I said, thinking I’d neatly solved the problem. What’s in a name?

“Director?” he asked, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “Fine by me. You,” he jerked his head at Vernon. “You put the thing together in a satisfactory manner, and me, as Director, directs. In other words, tells you what to do.”

Vernon snorted like a war horse and I thought hostilities were going to continue.

“I’ll tell you both this,” Mr Jenkins said angrily, pushing through the bodies clustered in the doorway. “I draw the line at mopping up blood on me floors. Any more of this, and I’m sending for the police.”

This remark acted like a bucket of cold water. There was immediate silence. Vernon and George looked shocked.

“Right,” I said, taking charge before they recovered. “Time to draw a line in the sand. We’ll all have a cuppa to calm us down and then we’ll get busy on a run through. Sorry to have been a trouble, Mr Jenkins.”

“I’m holding you responsible, Mrs …er, for the good behaviour of these two…two….”

“Yeah, hard to think of a word to describe ‘em,” Gavin said, earning a glare.

“Put the kettle on, Gavin!” I snapped.

“Won’t fit,” he said, grinning.

“You know what they say about tea,” Gordon said. “It cures all, but I’m thinking you’ll have to make it mighty strong!”

To be continued…

Copyright © Betty Woodcock 2016


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The Gunpowder Plot of 1605 was a failed assassination attempt against King James 1 of England and V1 of Scotland by a group of provincial English Catholics led by Robert Catesby. The plan was to blow up the Houses of Parliament on 5th November when the king was present. The failure of this plot was commemorated for many years afterwards by special sermons and other public events such as the ringing of church bells, which have evolved into Bonfire night of today.

History lesson over.

I was married on 5th November and the fireworks and bonfires made our day extra special. We thought it neat that the whole of the country would be celebrating. My new husband said another plus was that he would never forget the date!

I’ve been a widow many years, and today I am looking back at happy memories of innumerable bonfire nights spent with our children and families. Of jacket potatoes and parkin…memories that will last forever…

Have a Happy Bonfire Night, friends…

Copyright © Betty Woodcock 2016

Photo by courtesy of katman1972 rgbstock.com


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