Hello my darlings,


As promised, here’s the Olympic Torch on its way through my town yesterday in the rain (typical). The torch was handed over to various people who contribute a great deal of their time  to serve our community. There was an elderly man and various others along with this girl, a star who’s overcome many hurdles to help others.


Aaaaand, Episode Ten of Desert Orchid is in pages and the whole pdf file is available to download too.


I’ll post pictures of the Diamond Jubilee celebrations being held over the next four days. The UK is coming to a grinding halt while we all celebrate Queen Elizabeth II’s sixty years on the throne. Wow!

What are you all up to? Please come in and share!


Right, diving back into the writing cave.




Desert Orchid

Desert Orchid


Hello my darlings!

The heat is definitely on with the temperature here in the UK a balmy 89 degrees and rising!

After the wettest April in living memory the gardens resemble plants on crack cocaine and the poor bees are starving because of no flowers, ie no food.

I took a few days off from writing and tweeting and  facebooking and blogging. My friend, August, calls it taking a mental health break and I absolutely get what she’s saying.

Reckless Nights In Rome is still ticking along. A Stormy Spanish Spring is ready to rock for a July launch and Desert Orchid is rocking. The things I do to this pair has had me crying (in a good way) and I LOVE Khalid who Charisse calls the ‘Rock Star’.

How are things with you guys? What are you working on and how are you doing? How’s the weather with you? Hot, cold, wet or dry? Is it just the Brits who care about the weather?

Next weekend is the Elizabeth II, the Queen’s 60th Anniversary of when she took the throne and the whole country is having a party. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity for us to celebrate a wonderful woman who put her country and duty before herself.

Then the UK is hosting the Olympics at the end of July this year and the torch is running through my town this week! I shall post photos!


Hello my darlings,

Episodes seven and eight are posted on the Desert Orchid page and also in the pdf files.

Having amazing fun with this and the discipline is a great lesson. I’m also working on my work in progress, editing a novel and writing a couple of other short stories and a novella. It appears that writing daily is sparking my creativity, so I’m making the most of it!  Reckless Nights In Rome is holding its own without any promotion at all from me and that’s interesting isn’t it?

What are you guys up to?





Hello my darlings.


Since I’m up the wall writing my work in progress and received requests to post larger episodes of Desert Orchid and I live to serve, I’ve added another 6,000+ words to the story today.

The next two episodes will be posted on Friday.

For those of you interested in stats, over 180 peeps are reading Desert Orchid on their phones (!) via the pdf file which I find mind boggling. A Reckless Night in Rome is clicking along and again most peeps are reading on phones or Kindles and downloading direct to their devices rather than going through their computers. Who knew?

As I said many are asking for more of the story at least twice a week and since this is the first time I’ve done this I’m happy to oblige. I should mention that this story it literally taking shape as I write and goes against every single engrained word of wisdom on how to write, so don’t do what I do. At the very least have some sort of outline. Having said that I do have a rough idea of where I’m going and found the notes I made on the original concept way back in 2009. What’s interesting to me are the different names I gave the characters and the animals! It’s like meeting an old friend! I can’t say how long it’s going to take to get to THE END! But at least I have an ending and now need to merge the work.




Episode Five is up at the bottom of pages and you can download the story so far in pdf to read later!

I’m up against deadlines and writing like a crazy person!

Reckless Nights in Rome is doing great and I want to thank every single one of you who purchased the story, you guys seriously rock and I’ll keep you posted on what’s coming – A Stormy Spanish Spring – where we meet Bronte and Nico  (from Reckless Nights) again in the latter part of this book. The feedback for Reckless has been amazing and I’m thrilled you guys enjoyed it.




Desert Orchid

Desert Orchid

Hello my darlings,

Episode four of Desert Orchid is on the next page.  You can download the pdf too for later.

AND the big announcement is that Reckless Nights is on a two day special promotion and free on Kindle – sweet dreams are made of this, trust me! Grab it here.

So if you fancy a sensual read, pull up a box of chocolates, light some candles, pour a glass of wine and relax with Nico and Bronte.

A short and sweet post today because I’ve just shot my heroine in my wip and loved every second of it!  Hmm, I feel a post coming on. I need to get her into a military helicopter with the medics before she bleeds to death. Can’t have that!

You know I love hearing from you guys and what I want to know is what you’re all up to? What are you writing? What are you reading?



Good Monday morning, my darlings!

In the incredible journey of life, we’ve been burgled twice.

The first time was when we went on holiday for a couple of weeks with my girls when they were small. Because of a spate of thefts from garages, we brought our petrol lawn mower into the house thinking it would be safe there. In those days petrol lawn mowers were terribly expensive and we had a large corner plot with much grass so we were very attached to the machine (which was a temperamental bloody thing with one of those cords that you pulled. Never started for me but batted its eyelashes at Hugo and leapt to attention when he pulled it. I called it The Bitch) but I digress.

We took all the usual precautions before going on holiday, cancelled the milk, the neighbours had a key and they picked up the mail and switched on the lights and kept a general eye on the place. Anyway, the low life scumbags – forever known as LLSB’s – entered via a side window (I won’t tell you how they did it in case some wannabes read this – why give them help? and they should remember payback’s an evil witch called Christine.)

So when we came back from a break in Ibiza all bronzed and mellow with our livers pickled in Sangria it was to find my dear friend and neighbour, Linda, in tears and totally devastated. (For that alone I hope Karma has inflicted mucho pain.)

After forensics had made an even bigger mess, Linda asked the boys in blue (police) if she should clean up the place and do a bit of tidying because she couldn’t bear for me to come back to the disaster that was my home and they said to go ahead. I should mention at this point that I’m known as the woman in whose house you can eat your dinner off the kitchen floor, just say’in

So although it was a shock it could have been worse. The LLSB’s took my late grandmother’s engagement ring which was all I had of her. She died shortly after I was born. Along with various other bits and pieces of jewellery. The LLSB’s had piled packets of flour, sugar, salt and tons of other things on the kitchen work surfaces – apparently in readiness to trash the place. The boys in blue surmised that they’d been disturbed by something and had left the way they came.

The fingerprint teams were the one thing that seriously spooked me because they’d been all through my underwear drawer – where I kept valuables and items special to me. I’m a girl, we do stuff like that – and the black powder took days to clean off. I felt totally and utterly violated that the LLSB’s had been through personal letters, bank statements (this was in the days before online banking) and other items.

But do you know what really, really &%%£$$!! me off?

The LLSB’s had gone through every single CD and took all MINE and left HUGO’s. How the hell is that fair? Not only did I lose The Corrs, Enya, Elton John, David Bowie, Roxy Music, Enigma, Paula Abdul, Bon Jovi (I cried over him) Meatloaf, Whitney Huston (bless her) and Mariah Carey.

But they left me with Delbert McClinton, Waylon Jennings, The Nitty bloody Gritty Dirt Band (!) Garth Brooks and The Texas Tornadoes … the list is endless but you get the picture.

This was the last straw that broke this camel’s back. I cried. I wailed. I sobbed like a baby with Hugo rocking me telling me to ‘Hush.’ And that ‘Everything would be fine.’  To this day I feel bitter. GIVE ME MY MUSIC BACK YOU S.O.B’S.

Sigh. So come on, what have you had purloined from you? Share and we can all heal together. And let’s see if we can beat last week’s amazing comments – you were all totally awesome!

The second time we were burgled is a whole other long story and you’ll need a box of tissues for that one.

Oh, and just in case your wondering, The Bitch was untouched. Snarl.


Sea from the Desert

Hello my lovelies,

It’s Freeby Friday here today and episode three of Desert Orchid is posted on the next page. Just click the ‘Desert Orchid’  link next to ‘About’ on the menu bar above to read it. The episodes run consecutively so scroll down to find number three.  If you prefer, I’ve posted a pdf file with the three episodes for you to download to  Adobe reader or Calibre and will update it each week. Thought that was a better idea for you to read it later at your leisure rather than 2,265 words in one go.

The tale is about to enter a whole new phase now that Khalid and Charisse have met. They’ve no idea of the challenges ahead, bless them. A beta reader told me I’m a cruel witch which is very true. No point in having a dark and brooding hero if he’s not tortured is there? Hehehe.

Keep me posted on how you’re enjoying this story – I LOVE to hear from you guys.

That’s it! Short and sweet since it’s been a manic week in this household and my brain’s been through the Kindle blender.


via reddit &

Hello, my lovelies,

And how are we today? As you know I never usually post on a Wednesday but I’ve seen this and needed to share – prepare to grin. 🙂

For all of us who feel only the deepest love and affection for the
way computers have enhanced our lives, read on:

At a recent computer expo (COMDEX), Bill Gates reportedly compared
the computer industry with the auto industry and stated,

‘If Ford had kept up with technology like the computer industry has,
we would all be driving $25 cars that got 1,000 miles to the

In response to Bill’s comments, Ford issued a press release stating:

If Ford had developed technology like Microsoft, we would all be
driving cars with the following characteristics:

1.  For no reason whatsoever, your car would crash………Twice a

2.  Every time they repainted the lines in the road, you would have
to buy a new car.

3.  Occasionally your car would die on the freeway for no reason.
You would have to pull to the side of the road, close all of the
windows, shut off the car, restart it, and reopen the windows before you
could continue. For some reason you would simply accept this.

4.  Occasionally, executing a maneuver such as a left turn would
cause your car to shut down and refuse to restart, in which case you
would have to reinstall the engine.

5.  Macintosh would make a car that was powered by the sun, was
reliable, five times as fast and twice as easy to drive – but would run
on only five percent of the roads.

6.  The oil, water temperature, and alternator warning lights would
all be replaced by a single ‘This Car Has Performed An Illegal
Operation’ warning light.

7.  The airbag system would ask ‘Are you sure?’ before deploying.

8.  Occasionally, for no reason whatsoever, your car would lock you
out and refuse to let you in until you simultaneously lifted the
door handle, turned the key and grabbed hold of the radio antenna.

9.  Every time a new car was introduced car buyers would have to
learn how to drive all over again because none of the controls would
operate in the same manner as the old car.

10. You’d have to press the ‘Start’ button to turn the engine off.

PS: I ‘d like to add that when all else fails, you could call ‘customer
service’ in some foreign country and be instructed in some foreign
language how to fix your car yourself!!!

Haha! So, do you agree with the above? Is the Ford guy being a little bit harsh?  Please feel free to share, this was forwarded to me by the lovely writer Judy Ridgley!


Hello my lovlies,

In the spirit of paying it forward, every Friday I’m publishing an episode serialising the story of Desert Orchid, the montage of which is above.

Here’s the blurb:

Queen Charisse El Haribe is deeply committed to the health and education of the women and children in her country.

And to bring the tiny Arab Kingdom of Onnur into the 21st century.

Now her beloved husband is dead, covetous eyes are turned towards the vast untapped oil and diamond reserves of Onnur. The country’s only hope is for her to marry her husband’s nephew, the wild, wicked and womanising Prince Khalid El Haribe.

Ostracised from his wealthy family since he was held responsible for the death of his young sister and her friend in a speedboat accident, Khalid El Haribe has thrown himself into a life of wine, women and song. His only passion is for his painting where he can lose himself for days and weeks creating vast avant-garde canvases in vivid oils.

But his path to self destruction comes to an abrupt halt when he’s named heir to the tiny Kingdom of Onnur. Could this be the chance to make amends to his family? To make them proud of him again? He agrees to a marriage of convenience.

Expecting the bride to be in her late thirties or early forties, Khalid is stunned to find his intended is young, beautiful, articulate and funny. Their attraction is instant and burns hard and hot.

But Charisse has appalling secrets in her past. A past that not only threatens Onnur and their love but their lives too.


by C C MacKenzie

Copyright C C MacKenzie


“Inform my brother I am here.”

The bitter cold of a London winter made his voice hard, the tone filled with impatience and irritation, Prince Sarif El Haribe permitted the butler to remove his cashmere coat as he eyed the mountain of a man who stood before him. Immaculate in a black suit, white shirt and black tie, he resembled a bulldog with no neck, he had a shaved flat head and a face that bore the marks of a pugilist. Perhaps it was the small bird like eyes but something about the man always made Sarif uneasy and looking at him now that feeling returned times ten.

His brother’s protection officer snapped to attention. Trained never to show emotion, a muscle jerking in his wide jaw was the only outward sign that Sarif’s unexpected arrival caused dismay. Omar bowed from the neck, turned and ran up the wide marble staircase.

Sarif couldn’t say he was looking forward to the meeting with his only brother, he should be in his own country, Quarram, dealing with his own issues rather than bringing a wild and out of control puppy to heel.

Sarif strolled into a room that on a good day would be an opulent drawing room. Yes, he thought studying the evidence, Khalim certainly enjoyed the high life. His eyes narrowed in distaste on a couple of empty champagne bottles.

His long finger picked up an absurd fragment of acid pink silk. A matching padded bra hung on a lampshade. Knowing his brother, he’d probably paid for the impressive breasts that filled it too. He studied another bra, black silk this time as revulsion fanned the flame of disgust in his belly.

“My Lord, His Highness will be but a moment.” The bodyguard’s high voice didn’t fit with the physical picture Omar presented to the world. Perhaps that was why he found him repulsive? Why it mattered, Sarif didn’t know. The bodyguard bowed his head.

“How many?”

Omar kept his eyes glued to his shiny shoes standing on a lush Persian carpet. “Two, my Lord.”

Sarif’s unremitting stare had the man swallow audibly. He kept his voice silky soft, “Return these items to the, er…ladies.”

He scrambled around the room picking up underwear, scraps of fabric purporting to be dresses along with killer heels before bowing out of the room and closing the double doors with a soft click.

Sarif moved to the bar, poured himself a soft drink in a glass of Edinburgh crystal and a brandy for his brother. He would need it, after he broke the news. He wondered how Khalim would take it, no more parties, no more whoring and no more freedom.

The doors opened and he turned just as a voice hoarse from sleep demanded in a slow drawl,

“What the hell do you want?”

The accent reminded Sarif of their American mother. He met Prince Khalim El Haribe’s grey eyes with a bland stare, sipped his drink, studying his younger brother over the rim of the glass. He hadn’t seen him in six months and his eyes narrowed at both the tone and the appalling decline in his physical condition.

Khalim flushed. Eyes bloodshot and underlined with dark circles, deep lines of dissipation ran down either side of his mouth. Black hair, damp with sweat, curled over his ears and neck. The hair badly needed a cut and the gaunt face needed a shave. He wore too loose soft denim jeans, white at the knees and seams.

There were times when deep brotherly affection battled through anger and a desperate sadness that their relationship had deteriorated to the point where they barely tolerated each other these days and this was one of those times. God, Khalim had lost too much weight, his stomach was concave and he could see his ribs. Loathing the feeling of complete helplessness, he finished his drink and turned to place the glass on the bar to hide the swift shaft of anxiety that shot up his spine.

He took a breath and turned to find his brother tugging a black T-shirt over his head which told the world, ‘Elvis had left the building’. Khalim ran a shaky hand through his hair.

“If you spoke to me like that in my Kingdom you would lose your tongue, little brother,” Sarif said softly.

Heat rose over his brother’s high cheekbones. “Sorry, had a bit too much bubbly tonight.” He gave a jerky shrug. “You know how it is.”

“I know how it is with you.” Sarif held up a hand as his brother’s eyes flashed with a temper that was always too near the surface. “I’ve brought news, sad news, from home.”

Sarif made himself comfortable on the couch, deciding his brother’s manners were deplorable.

“The King? Mother?” Alarm flared in Khalim’s grey eyes. And Sarif was very pleased to see it; perhaps there was hope for his brother after all.

“No. They are well.” Sarif paused as the butler entered with an ornate gold tray holding tiny cups of aromatic thick black coffee and refreshments. He waited until the door closed before he continued, “King Assim of Onuur has died. He was seventy-five. A heart attack.”

Khalim blinked, shrugged again then helped himself to a coffee and sweetmeat.

Waiting patiently for a response that wasn’t forthcoming, Sarif ordered himself to be patient. “Do you remember our Uncle?” he wanted to know.

Khalim frowned and yawned hugely. “I met him a couple of times. Into ancient history, that sort of thing. He was an eccentric, wasn’t he?”

“That might account for it,” Sarif muttered, his eyes narrowing again as they remained on his brother.

“Account for what?”

“Naming you his heir, among other things.” He paused, his smile didn’t reach his eyes as he watched blood drain from Khalim’s face before he continued, “Onuur is tiny, but wealthy. Diamonds, oil and of course the strategic advantage of having an El Haribe Prince ruling the Kingdom ensures political stability for the region.”

Khalid blinked twice. “Is this some kind of sick joke?”

If only it was. “The King is delighted. I’ve been instructed to bring you home. Tonight.”

His brother shook his head even as those grey eyes met his. “I’m not King material, Sarif.”

Too true. “Apparently, our late Uncle didn’t agree.” Watching his brother very carefully he took another sip of coffee and delivered the killer blow. “Oh, and you’re to marry his widow, Her Royal Highness Queen Charisse. You have six weeks to sober up.”

Hope you enjoy! Don’t say I’m not good to you! I won’t do a search and destroy if you don’t leave a comment. Just remember I have a memory long memory! Just say’in!