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I’ve been writing since I was that small boy, mainly poems and an occasional short story. Maerlin’s Storm was first written over a decade ago. It wasn’t something I planned to do. I didn’t wake up and say, I’m going to be an author. Far from it. Like many things in my life, it all started with a dream. The next morning, I wrote a poem Later, it became a story, and this small seed became my beanstalk. People read it and enjoyed it, but then life became busy again. For many years...

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“You’re charged with murder in the first degree. How do you plead?” asked the judge. “Self-defense, your honour,” I responded. “I thought he was a burglar.” The prosecution smirked and presented their case. Large glossy photos of the crime scene were displayed before the shocked jury. It was damning stuff, the victim’s body lying there with a dagger sticking out of his red jacket. Despite a vigorous cross examination, I stuck to my story. “...And the mince pies on the table, beside the fireplace. You say they were left over from your supper?” “That’s correct.” “What about the Christmas stocking?”

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