Monthly Archives: August 2017

…we come in with NUTHIN, and we leave with NUTHIN, ‘cept the mem’ries…


…I harbour no misconception about competing with the philosophers of the ages… but every now and then, I get to enjoy ‘retiring to the back of my own mind and there being content to muse and ponder’… (pinched, and paraphrased that from Master Einstein. A.)… and I’ve been doing some of that in the past few days… last week, I shared with my Web friends the intent to publish on Auntie Amazon Kindle a wee collection (a score of poems to be precise) punched out of my head over the past ‘pick-a-large-number’ of years … the idea was, and is, to preface each poem with the story behind its creation… this met with enthusiastic response and frankly, unexpected, encouragement from many sources… and here’s what’s happened, again to my surprise… the digging back through all those decades for some of the verses has triggered several glorious mem’ries… mem’ries of people, of places, of romances, of tragedies, of delight, of disasters, trials and triumphs… it’s as if the poems encapsulate chapters of certain stages of my life… from my teens, WURKING and living in the gloriously beautiful Isle of Mull in the Scottish Hebrides… to a stint as a Trainee Master of the Financial Universe in the Lombard Street banking  district in London… travelling halfway around the WURLD in pursuit of an amazing career in the Far East and now in the Middle East… and, with no trace of sadness, coming to terms with the irrefutable fact… we come in with NUTHIN, and we leave with NUTHIN, ‘cept the mem’ries… today, my life is not perfect, (whose is?) nor should I ever expect it to be, but in comparison to the dreadfully harsh hand dealt to so many others around the globe at present (viz: Texas, Louisiana, Bangladesh, India, Nepal, Africa, sea-bound migrant refugees, and millions of others), to complain is odious… I’m glad to feel at ease… to be at peace with whatever lot I’m given… and all this just from raking back through some old scraps of poetry… ah, Life can be very quirky at times… thank you for reading thus far… see yeez later… LUV YEEZ!



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…Marjorie Mallon… poet and authoress extraordinaire… come, be entranced…

…I’m delighted, and more than a tad intrigued by the upcoming launch of THE CURSE OF TIME – BOOK ONE – BLOODSTONE from the pen of Author and poet, Marjorie Mallon… read on and yeez’ll see why…  but first, here’s m’Lady, Marjorie to elaborate:

Thank you to Seumas Gallacher for inviting me to guest post on his blog today to celebrate the release of my debut novel The Curse of Time #1 Bloodstone – A middle grade/YA fantasy set in Cambridge, UK. The kindle copy launches on Amazon, Saturday 26th August and I’ll be having an online party to celebrate on my blog, Facebook and social media.

I’d like to share with you two of my passions: my debut book and my love of poetry.

I started writing poetry several years ago encouraged by author Ronovan Writes poetry challenge I’m indebted to Ronovan for reminding me just how much I love reading and writing poetry! His challenges rekindled my love of poetry. Since then I have written numerous haiku and Tanka. More recently, I’ve participated in my lovely friend Colleen Chesebro’s – weekly poetry challenge. I’ve become such a fan of the haiku and Tanka form that I decided to add numerous pieces of micro poetry to my novel. Each chapter or puzzle piece as I call them begins with a short piece of poetry or a Tanka poem followed by prose.

I’ve penned several additional pieces of poetry (not included in the novel) with my book launch in mind.

There are four in particular that I’ve selected for this post, I hope you enjoy!

The first two explore themes in the novel that fascinate me: secrets, confessions, mirrors, a curse, and of course the principal theme of the novel, a subject that continues to intrigue me – time.




















These last two poems hint at light and shadows, power, hypnotism and alluring eyes, all of which play an important part in The Curse of Time.

There is a mysterious and handsome male lead protagonist in the novel that may or may not be plagued by smoke.

Or, it could all be a confusing smoke screen! I advise you to read the book to find out more and if you like/love The Curse of Time (and I hope you do!) please tap away on your keyboard, mobile phone or device and write a review on sites such as Goodreads and Amazon, etc. Reviews are like magical gold dust to authors, they don’t have to be long, time consuming or elaborate. In fact like my dear friends the haiku and Tanka a few well-chosen words can mean so much.

Photography credit: My daughter Georgina Mallon.

Male model: J English.

…and now, to the book launch:

On Amelina Scott’s thirteenth birthday, her father disappears under mysterious circumstances. Saddened by this traumatic event, she pieces together details of a curse that has stricken the heart and soul of her family.

Amelina longs for someone to confide in. Her once carefree mother has become angry and despondent. One day a strange black cat and a young girl, named Esme appear. Immediately, Esme becomes the sister Amelina never had. The only catch is that Esme must remain a prisoner, living within the mirrors of Amelina’s house.

Dreams and a puzzling invitation convince Amelina the answer to her family’s troubles lies within the walls of the illusive Crystal Cottage. Undaunted by her mother’s warnings, Amelina searches for the cottage on an isolated Cambridgeshire pathway where she encounters a charismatic young man, named Ryder. At the right moment, he steps out of the shadows, rescuing her from the unwanted attention of two male troublemakers.

With the help of an enchanted paint set, Amelina meets the eccentric owner of the cottage, Leanne, who instructs her in the art of crystal magic. In time, she earns the right to use three wizard stones. The first awakens her spirit to discover a time of legends, and later, leads her to the Bloodstone, the supreme cleansing crystal which has the power to restore the balance of time. Will Amelina find the power to set her family free?

THE CURSE OF TIME – BOOK ONE – BLOODSTONE is a YA/middle grade fantasy set in Cambridge, England exploring various themes/aspects: Light, darkness, time, shadows, a curse, magic, deception, crystals, art, poetry, friendships, teen relationships, eating disorders, self-harm, anxiety, depression, family, puzzles, mystery, a black cat, music, a mix of sadness, counterbalanced by a touch of humour.


…m’Lady, Marjorie is a debut author who has been blogging for three years: Her interests include writing, photography, poetry, and alternative therapies. She writes Fantasy YA, middle grade fiction and micro poetry – haiku and tanka. She loves to read and has written over 100 reviews:
Her alter ego is MJ – Mary Jane from Spiderman- she loves superheroes! Marjorie was born on the 17th of November in Lion City: Singapore, (a passionate Scorpio, with the Chinese Zodiac sign a lucky rabbit,) second child and only daughter to her proud parents Paula and Ronald. She grew up in a mountainous court in the Peak District in Hong Kong with her elder brother Donald. Her parents dragged her away from her exotic childhood and her much loved dog Topsy to the frozen wastelands of Scotland. In bonnie Edinburgh, Marjorie mastered Scottish country dancing, and a whole new Och Aye lingo.
As a teenager she travelled to many far-flung destinations to visit her abacus-wielding wayfarer dad. It’s rumoured that she now lives in the Venice of Cambridge, with her six foot hunk of a Rock God husband, and two enchanted daughters. After such an upbringing, she claims her author’s mind has taken total leave of its senses! When not writing, she eats exotic delicacies while belly dancing, or surfs to the far reaches of the moon. To chill out, she practices Tai Chi. If the mood takes her, m’Lady, Marjorie snorkels with mermaids, or signs up for idyllic holidays with the Chinese Unicorn, whose magnificent voice sings like a thousand wind chimes.
…I know yeez will want to know even more about this fascinating Lady… here’s how:
Marjorie’s Links:

My Amazon UK Author Page

My Amazon US Author Page

My Amazon Canada Author Page

My blog – for information about new releases, photos of main characters/character interviews, book reviews and inspiration:

My New Facebook Group #ABRSC: Authors/Bloggers Rainbow Support Club on Facebook:

Instagram: Instagram:

Twitter: @Marjorie_Mallon and Twitter: @curseof_time

Facebook: Facebook: m j mallon author

Tumblr: Tumblr: mjmallonauthor

Marjorie has devoted the past few years to writing over 100 reviews on her Goodreads Review Account, and on her blog to help support traditional and indie writers.

…what a LUVLY great supporter of all the rest of we scribblers … thanks for sharing, m’Lady, Marjorie
…see yeez later… LUV YEEZ!


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…Authors, is Kindle Unlimited actually ‘kindness unlimited’ for us?

…as a self-published author (and I’m sure house-published authors most prob’ly feel the same way), it is phenomenally gratifying when we know our wee masterpieces are being read… that sumb’dy ‘out there’ cares enuff to honour us by poring through our WURKAuntie Amazon’s KINDLE is well-established as the major virtual channel for good folks to buy/download our tomes and we monitor their hypnotic daily sales charts as and when books are ‘taken’… all of which is excellent, of course, but it has occurred to this ol’ Jurassic scribbler that KINDLE UNLIMITED may be an even more precise gauge, in that only pages which have been read are shown on the graphics... during times of, for example, promos and freebie giveaways, it’s common knowledge that many people will download just for the heck of it and never get around to opening the first page… this past month, my KINDLE UNLIMITED ‘pages read’ column has been ticking along nicely, with more than 6,200 pages read… that equates to about 20 books… that may not seem much as a cold hard number, but believe me, to most of we writers, it’s a terrific silent endorsement, and part of that elusive affirmation we crave… to quote the over-used Oscar Award actresses’ line, ‘they like me, Mama – they like me!’… the major thing intriguing me, however, is that there is no way of knowing what triggers a run of KINDLE UNLIMITED indulgence… for my Jack Calder crime thrillers it has come in spurts or waves… and thankfully, it embraces all my titles, which is even more satisfying… as a one-time skeptic of the KINDLE UNLIMITED mechanism, I have been converted to a fully-fledged disciple… I’d LUV to hear how my fellow authors/authoresses and readers think about it… please let me know… see yeez later… LUV YEEZ! 








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…1950s Docklands Govan, Glasgow… our Mammies knew what to feed us…

...’we are what we eat’, claim scientists and nutritionists… in this modern day and age, where every packet, tin, container and tube of consumables is festooned with precise details of the  composition of their contents… 20.64287 gms of this, 15.92663 gms of that… glutens, chemicals, carbohydrates, fibre, fats and endless other constituents… is it any wonder that this ol’ Scots Jurassic scribbler hearkens back to a time when our family diet depended more on whatever was left in the wage packet or unemployment benefit pittance, rather than the over-exuberance of the good folks at the Food Standards Agency of Her Majesty’s Gubmint?… let me accompany yeez on a wee journey of some of the typical epicurean delights we kids devoured in the Docklands Govan slums in Glasgow during the 1950s…

…breakfast for four children (I had three younger sisters) one (yes, ONE) bread roll sliced in half crossways, fried in lard, then sliced in half again, top down, creating four lumps of dough, topped with sugar… one meal down… dinner, (we didn’t call it  ‘Lunch’… that was a fancy English term learned much later in life), one steak and kidney pie with pastry crust, heated in the gas oven till it was dark brown and crispy, then topped with half a cup of Bisto gravy…

…meted out into five plates (Mammy’s home, Daddy was out WURKIN or looking for WURK)… tea, (our name for ‘Dinner’), consisted of slices of plain bread loaf soaked in egg and fried in lard… food of the Govan Gods… oft times a huge pot of ‘bottomless soup’ started its life at the beginning of the week and metamorphosed for the ensuing days by continual additions of water, salt and whatever semblance of edibles were at hand… mutton, bits of bacon, lentils, peas and barley… lots of barley, coz it kept yeez warm inside… desserts were unheard of…

…now and again a packet of biscuits or Tunnocks Caramel Wafers would find its way to the table, and were strictly rationed to us infants… food was never left unfinished… any attempt not to eat whatever dish was on offer would be recast as the next meal…

…so if we are what we eat, I am a glorious amalgam of square sausage, mince, tattie (potato) scones, lard, lard and more lard, assiette pies, bacon sammitches, mutton soup, barley soup, lentil soup, and sum’times quite indeterminate-content soup, porridge with sugar, porridge with salt, porridge with jam… marmalade-laden breadloaf-end ‘doorsteps’… and not a hint of glutens anywhere… go figure… see yeez later… LUV YEEZ!



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…my pal, Authoress, Sally Wragg has a new book for yeez to enjoy…

Can I start by thanking Seumas for his great kindness in allowing my ramblings on his wonderful blog page and by saying that I feel very honoured to be here. That said, it has left me with the slight problem of how to introduce myself and explain my presence here. It’s the reason why, this sunny day finds me lolling in a deck-chair in the garden, on the pre-text of topping up my sun-tan but in reality, chewing on my pencil-end, fretting over what I can possibly say that might make anyone want to read it without lamenting poor Seumas’ blog page has taken an inexplicably sad turn for the worse. In other words, I sense you’re an educated lot and I don’t want to be found out.

I am a writer, so I know I’m here to talk about my new book, ‘Villa Cassiopeia’  which is set on Paxos, a small, inaccessible island, just past Corfu and reachable only by boat – unless you’re someone like Jack Calder, of course, in which case you’d probably cause major mayhem amongst the locals by parachuting yourself in! My heroine, Bryony Bingham, is a middle-aged lady of indeterminate years, beset by personal problems she seeks to escape, by grabbing an unexpected opportunity for a summer holiday. Unfortunately, in the shape of her dysfunctional family, her ex-husband Edward, her alcoholic father Leon, Goth daughter Chloe and wayward son, Max, lies the root cause of her problems and it’s typical of the poor woman that she shoots herself in the proverbial foot by dragging them along, too, leading to a variety of hilarious situations from which she tries to extract herself, with a varying degree of success.  There is a serious strand to the book and a mystery at its heart that I hope enriches the story but overall, it is meant to be a light-hearted and humorous read, ideal for summer, just in case anyone has any room left on their holiday reading list. And that’s not a hint, ahem, just a gentle prompt. I love Paxos, we’ve enjoyed so many holidays there and I couldn’t possibly write a sad book about it, I think that’s probably why I’ve enjoyed writing this book more than any other. I hope that shows through. Paxos is beautiful, a step back in time, to a gentler pace of life and brimming with an indefinable charm – a series of plateaus, dotted with olive groves and cyprus trees, shelving down to a limpid blue sea. I don’t mean to sound like a travel brochure but it is exactly like that and the more times I visit, the harder it is to leave.

But back to the book and its publication day, tomorrow and for which I’m hosting a digital launch party on Facebook.  There are competitions and prizes, one of which is an ebook of (one of the fabulous Jack Calder novels), very kindly donated by Seumas himself, for which I thank him very much. There’s oodles of fun, so please feel free to join me. I’m looking forward to seeing you there…

…thanks for sharing, Sally… see yeez later… LUV YEEZ!



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… ‘1-on-top,-1/2-at-the-sides,-please’…

…in another era, Master Gallacher’s skull was carpeted by enough hair to keep away whatever little sun dared creep into Scotland… summer used to arrive between half past one and six o’clock in the afternoon of a preordained day in July, so not much need for the solar protection… the youthful phase of Brylcreem plastered across the locks lasted only until the first flush of recognition of ‘GURLS‘ and their various attractions  became superseded by a stronger love for playing football for the local teams, training five nights a week, and playing at least one of the two weekend days… moving through later teens into early twenties, the cranial thatch underwent more change… for a time, long, permed curly flowing stresses (hard to believe, I know, Mabel) accompanied a Zapata-style Mex moustache, all the better for the image while doing battle on the football field…

…I have a cruelly, and totally undeserved, tagged reputation for always ‘retaliating first’ and receiving red cards for such incidents… however, I digress… fast forward to these more tranquil times where the Gallacher hairstyle fashion has taken a far second place to convenience… no baldness has occurred, but the practicality of a mere, thinned covering, requiring no such bagatelles as combs or brushes, takes scant moments to shampoo and shower, dry, and move onto whatever the day has in store… yesterday, my monthly visit to the barber took all of its usual seven minutes to run the clipper-shears lightly over the ‘1-on-top,-1/2-at-the-sides,-please’ routine…

…hardly the toughest hirsute assignment of the week for the hairdresser, but he does the eyebrows free of charge, so the tip is deserved… a full ten minutes after entering his shop, the modern version of the shorn-shaven-Samson-Seumas exits, resembling a snooker ball with the beginnings of a five-o’clock shadow on top, or at the very least, a precocious gooseberry … and it actually feels airier up there… see yeez later… LUV YEEZ!



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