Some of you may be interested in hearing more about me, or so a few friends have led me to believe. The great thing about this page is that you can walk away if I bore you, and I will be none the wiser.

I really loath blowing my own trumpet, but I will try my best to give you a rough breakdown of my life and how I ended up here.

I was born at Barnstaple Hospital, North Devon, in the 1970s. I refuse to admit I am in my late forties, so by not disclosing the year, I can easily fool myself into believing I still have a good few years before I hit half a century old. I am young at heart and act younger still. 

My parents hail from Essex, so growing up, I didn't feel my Devonian accent with an Essex twang fit anywhere. At school and through the early years of being gainfully employed, I would be called an Essex girl, which enthralled me. I was too naive to understand that the term Essex girl was a derogatory one, not one of endearment. But if I were to visit relatives in Essex, they would call me a country bumpkin. 

As most people do during their youth, they try to find a way to fit in with their peers. My way of trying to fit in was to try my best to hide the twangiest parts of my Devonian/Essex accent. I did a pretty good job. But the Essex part of my accent hasn't disappeared completely; if I am excited, drunk or using some of the more colourful aspects of dialect, there it is - Essex through and through. 

It isn't that I am ashamed of my roots, far from it, but I hungered for the acceptance of those around me. Luckily, either through age, the wisdom that comes from age, or, quite frankly, because I stopped suffering fools gladly, I no longer bend my personality (or dialect) to suit those around me. I am me; accept me as I am, or don't; I am like Marmite; you either love me or hate me; there is no in-between. But I will be fiercely loyal to almost everyone.

For most of my childhood, I suffered from 'Peter Pan' syndrome - I never wanted to grow up, and I definitely didn't want to leave home. This led to me not pursuing some career paths, as it would have meant being sent away for training. I am sure that the Army and Police force are currently thanking their lucky stars.

As I grew older, I held various positions in some of the holiday parks, of which North Devon had an abundance. 

My all-time favourite holiday season job was being dressed as the park mascot - a Racoon named Rosie. I want to clarify that these costumes were made of fur, and there were no air vents. These costumes also got hot inside, extremely hot; I can only liken it to entering a sauna while fully clothed in your entire holiday wardrobe. I would also like to point out that these costumes were never cleaned, and they stank! You may be wondering why this was my all-time favourite job; one word - boys! This particular holiday park would allow locals to use their pool, so many local lads would visit on weekends, including my crush. After spending over an hour in the clubhouse entertaining the families, I was ready to take this costume off, but I spotted my current crush in the car park. At this point, I hadn't realised that I could run in the 'one-size-fits-all' wellingtons that formed part of the ensemble. But I did. I launched myself at him and gave him the biggest hug ever. Would I have done this if I hadn't been hiding in a costume? Absolutely not. Did he have any idea that it was me hiding inside? Nope, even today, he has no clue.

My summers were spent either surfing, dressing as a racoon, or writing. I have loved writing for as long as I can remember. Winning a school poetry competition was a highlight for me. I won a £5 book voucher, which was considered a decent amount back then. But I wasn't worried about the money; I was overcome by the fact that I had beaten the most intellectual of my peers by merely putting pen to paper and writing my heart out.

By the time I hit my mid-twenties, I had been married, moved to North Wales, given birth to my amazingly kind daughter, and divorced after less than four years. I hadn't written for years; there never seemed to be time. I still enjoyed playing out scenarios for different stories and plot lines in my head, but they never made it onto paper. These imaginations are now long gone; I can barely remember them.

I moved back to North Devon after my marriage fell apart. While going through divorce proceedings, I met the love of my life, my best friend, and my soul mate, all rolled into one human being. I wasn't looking for a relationship, but there is an old saying that the universe gives you what you need.

Fast-forward to today: Simon and I have been married for nearly twenty-five years and have a fantastic son together. Simon has always treated my daughter as if she were his flesh and blood, so having our son didn't make her feel any less loved.

We moved to Wiltshire in the early 2000s after he was offered a job with excellent prospects. I held a few positions before we had our son and eventually started my own business making curtains, blinds and soft furnishings. I loved playing with fabrics and creating beautiful window treatments.  

I also found another love: the paranormal. I have always been interested in spooky things; Halloween is my favourite time of year. I used to love horror films until I watched one about a rabid dog. Knowing that it was entirely possible for this to become true, and with my overactive imagination, I haven't enjoyed them since. When Annabelle was released in cinemas, I decided to put on my big-girl pants and I went with some friends to watch it; I was the only person to go from being seated to star-jumping in one move during the screening. My friends, who were obviously really concerned for my well-being, asked if I could go with them again as I had turned a scary film into a comedy. My next dive into the paranormal field was attending a ghost hunt, which I loved. I got the bug and have been a paranormal investigator for nearly fifteen years and a member of the paranormal team at the world-famous Jamaica Inn since 2019.

After being diagnosed with cancer and being told that I would be prone to lymphoedema if I didn't follow their guidance, Simon and I discussed our next steps. I decided, after much soul-searching, to close the business altogether. It was a tough decision to make. However, one of the main things that I was told to do was to avoid lifting anything heavy. Rolls of fabric, sometimes containing 75 metres, can be really heavy.

During my cancer treatment, I was incredibly ill, and because, after all, life is about doing what you love, I decided to start with my love of writing again, with no idea of where it would end up. I had already released my first novel 'Daltons Demons' in 2020. My overactive imagination loved putting pen to paper, and once I started, I couldn't stop.

This is a rough breakdown of my life; like everyone, we just soldier through, never knowing what is around the corner. Thank you for reading. I don't know about you, but I am parched, so it's time to put the kettle on for a lovely cup of tea.

Much love

Lisa xx