My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’ war

To understand my fascination with the Second World War, you have to know a little bit about my grandparents. The most intriguing thing is that they fought on opposite sides of the war, as I’m half British and half German.

My British grandfather was a farmer, so because of his occupation he was not in active service, but a member of the Home Guard during the war. He was on regular patrols looking out for invaders, making sure everyone’s windows were properly blacked out. Meanwhile, my granny, was a local ambulance driver.

They had two farms on the east coast of Scotland, so food was plentiful and they made money growing and selling it. They were well away from bombing raids and – although they would both have known people who were fighting and killed – they and their small children were out of harm’s way.

They had a work force of foreign prisoners of war. My Dad (who was five when the war ended) has a hazy memory of Polish men on the farm, RAF pilots at dinner and fighter planes flying low over the fields.

Meanwhile, my German grandfather, serving as a soldier in the Wehrmacht, was having a horrible war. What he told me about that time goes like this.

He wanted to be a journalist when he was young. He used to review plays and films. But then the war came and he had to join up. He was sent to fight on the Eastern Front (against the Russians) and it was beyond appalling. So cold people died of frostbite. So cold, your gun froze up and jammed, the snot froze inside your nose and you had icicles hanging from your nostrils (I wasn’t likely to forget this detail). He was lying in the snow, firing on the enemy when he was hit by a bullet and severely wounded. He was hospitalized, taken out of Russia, back to Germany and (to my knowledge) injured out for the rest of the war. He had ugly scarring from the wound, but otherwise enjoyed good health for the rest of his life.

In my late teens, when my questions for him might have got much more interesting, he developed Alzheimer’s, so our conversations were very limited.

During the war, my German grandmother worked with her parents on their small farm, vineyard and village shop in the rural, very Catholic Mosel valley, close to Trier.  This is where my Mother, born in 1947, grew up in severe post-war austerity. She had the kind of childhood where not one scrap went to waste, you treasured your few clothes and shoes, grew your own food and if you didn’t finish your dinner, you were served it cold for breakfast.

I love this photo of my Mother and her family making haystacks. It gives you an idea of how they lived.

haystacks pic

 

 

Cross My Heart | A story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope

 

For everyone who’s been wanting to know what I’m doing next… here it is, curtain up moment… the heartbreakingly lovely cover of my new book: Cross My Heart.

Yes. Gasp! It’s quite a change. No pink, no sparkles, no adventures in fashion-land… this is the story of a 15 year old girl who joins the Belgian Resistance in 1940 during the Nazi occupation.

It’s an adventure story. It’s a love story. It’s a story of extraordinary courage, endurance and hope.

I am so proud of it. I have worked my socks off on it for over a year and I think it is the best thing I’ve ever written. It has been lovingly researched, something I enjoyed immensely.

I’ve always been totally fascinated by the Second World War, especially with the women’s and the girls’ stories.

The teenagers who served in the Resistance were unbelievably brave. They faced torture and execution every day. They had to make incredibly difficult decisions especially if their bombs risked civilians. But they were still teenagers: they fell in and out of love, they argued with their best friends, hung out in cafes, gossiped, had problems with their families.

More about this story soon, I’m compiling a blog of all the research sites and books I’ve used.

Cross My Heart comes out in August. It’s written for readers from age 11 plus, but I think anyone who wants to read a really gripping story of young love and unforgettable courage from this era will LOVE it.

Here’s the taster from the back of the book.

How far would you go for freedom?

Would you lie to your family?

Break up with your best friend?

Follow the boy you love into extreme danger?

Risk your life?

It’s 1940, Europe is at war and Nicole’s home city has been invaded by the Nazis. When she joins a secret group of freedom fighters, she learns that 15 is not too young to fire a gun, plant a bomb, face capture, torture and heartbreak and put your life on the line.

Inspired by real people, real places and real events.

My grandparents’