Summer Sighs.

 wet guyI’m sure this beautiful and summertime view got your attention.

Today you can find me at with my post Summer Sweetness & Sweat.

My days since I returned from vacation have been very busy. I shall have lots of news for you soon on several ongoing projects. Am I going to produce a newsletter? Certainly not yet.

I hope you all catch a few warm rays today even if you are in winter where you are.

Summer sighs for the pleasures of;

ice-cream melting over fruit in cold dishes,

birds waking me at dawn with their calls,

days spent walking barefoot, eyes eager for sunsets gleams of fire and gold.

The hay field sways with the kiss of the breeze

and I revel in the love that will never grow old.

Thanks for reading

Daisy Banks


Don’t let the wicked thieves win.

This isn’t the post I’d intended for today but I wanted to share this experience instead.

Most of you know I care for my Mom full time. The other stuff I do is meant to keep me functioning as an adult human. Some of it works.

There are times in the day when Mom is settled and happy watching TV, where I can  make a twenty minute dash to the local shops. This is simply so we have food on the table and all the other necessities .

Yesterday, as I got to the car I realized I’d forgotten something so came back. Mom was talking on the phone to someone. I guessed either the GP or perhaps the local pharmacy had called, both are very good at dealing with Mom, but as I listened to Mom’s repeated answers while the call continued that wasn’t it. I got close enough for Mom to see me. She waved the phone and said, “I can’t understand this woman. What does she want?”

After listening  on the phone for a moment or two, to a woman who told me she was a registered Microsoft member of staff, I grew horrified. This was a Phishing call; someone trying to get information for nefarious reasons regarding my computer—not only that, the wicked individual in her quest for details had tried to interrogate my eighty-two year old mother.

Incandescent doesn’t quite hit the mark.

I hope you understand when I say I am proud of myself that I didn’t swear and give the person a savage blast of the best curse words I know. I explained I couldn’t understand her well, said thank you, and put the phone down.

I know the people who get lured to work in this ugly and negative industry, one that simply causes pain for those abused, are poorly paid and work hours that should be banned. They have my sympathy and I hope soon their work environment improves their life opportunities. However, my disgust at any human being prodding a geriatric woman to try to get details of a computer is beyond calculation.

After few minutes to calm down I reported the call to the appropriate bodies. Not because I lost anything other than my cool, but just to let them know these people are currently targeting the area I live in. Will reporting the call do any good? I don’t know, but if it stops one other elderly person being abused in the way Mom was, then the report wasn’t wasted.

No graphics in this post as I simply couldn’t find one that might show you how I felt. All I can say is; if you fear any of your loved ones might be targeted by these people, try to teach them to be wary and cautious, explain they don’t have give any information and that the best thing they can do is to put the phone down. That way these wicked thieves can’t win.

Thanks for reading.

Daisy Banks

Sunday Sexy Snippets. Cover Reveal.


New SexySnippets_Button

Welcome to Sunday Sexy Snippets, and thanks to the Nuthouse Scribblers for their weekly challenge to offer seven sexy snippets from a work in progress or published work. To visit the Nuthouse Scribblers please click on the logo.

Please be aware Sexy Snippets often contain 18+ material. By continuing to read you acknowledge you are over 18.

 My Sexy Snippet this week includes a cover reveal for the forthcoming Paranormal story collection from the group of authors who write for Sexy To Go, and a snippet from my story in the collection, Cat Cause.

Paranormal STG

I love this cover designed by the very talented author Tara Quan. I hope you all like it too.

I hope you all enjoy this snippet from my story Cat Cause.


Tom stretched out his front legs and opened a set of strong claws in both front paw pads as he arched his back.

Izzy froze. Perhaps if he grabbed her she wouldn’t want to escape those strong paws.

He rose and bristled his fur as if to emphasize his muscular bulk. His tail stood tall with the tip twitching. “I dare say if I find a mouse small enough for you, kitten, I might bring it back.”

Her stomach rumbled again but she kept her mouth clamped shut.


The Paranormal Edition of Sexy To Go will be available very soon. I’ll let you know when.

Below is the list of authors taking part in this week’s Sexy Snippets. Do visit them too and enjoy some fabulous hot snippets.


List for Sunday 3rd July

Mackerel Sky


Mackrel Sky

Since I have been back home from my holiday I have seen skies like the one in the image above. This cloud formation is one known to older people and some younger ones too, as Mackerel Sky, because these clouds look like the fish scales on a Mackerel. The first English written reference to this appears in 1636, but I think people have known this cloud formation and what it means for a lot longer than that.

The old rhyme goes:

Mackerel Sky, Mackerel Sky,

Never long wet, never long dry.

I don’t know how old this actual rhyme is, but I can guess it comes from the time when  fishing captains who depended on their catch, or famers concerned about their crop, would look at the skies to try to estimate what the weather would do. People who lived inland from the coast would probably have chosen other ways than fish to describing these clouds. They might know them as Buttermilk Sky, or Fleecy Sky. Whichever name anyone used has the same message. There is wet weather to come.

The technical understanding of this cloud formation is that high altitude pressure leads to this rippling effect and in the UK at least, following on from these clouds by about six to twelve hours, there will be precipitation. In other words-it’s going to rain.

I am fascinated by the weather in the UK, like most of us here. Why? Mainly I think my interest comes from the fact the weather is, and has been for the entirety of my lifetime, utterly unpredictable within an understood range. I recollect snow in June, warm sunshine in December and a May whirlwind which almost lifted me from the ground when I was a child. If we are lucky  we can get the whole range of frost, sun, wind, and rain of the horizontal variety, all in one day. So, it kind of makes sense that people in times gone by spent a long time studying their local weather to try to fathom what might be coming next.

Boscobel Oak

This image is of the descendent of the original Boscobel Oak. The tree where ancient lore says Charles II as heir to the throne fled and hid after the disastrous 1651 battle of Worcester during the English Civil War. Truly, this tree is a mighty oak.

Ash tree

This image is of one of my favourite trees, the Ash. Since childhood I have always thought Ash trees have to be one of the most interesting trees we have in the UK.

Why the trees?

They are at the heart of another weather lore rhyme.

You have to watch how they develop leaves in spring to gain an insight into how the summer will progress. The old rhyme goes

Ash before Oak, we’re in for a soak,

Oak before Ash, we’re in for a splash.

Locally this year the Ash showed leaf before the Oak and so far the rhyme has proved correct. There has been a lot of rain.

I’m hoping we might get a few warm summer days despite the indications from the trees.

I’d love to hear of other weather lore from you. Let me know if you have a weather sign you or your family use.

Thanks for reading.

Daisy Banks


Makerel Sky Image from Nickfraser at the English language Wikipedia, CC BY-SA 3.0,

Boscobel Oak By Original uploader was Oosoom at en.wikipedia – Transferred from en.wikipedia, CC BY-SA 3.0,

Ash tree By Jean-Pol GRANDMONT – Own work, CC BY 3.0,

Something special.

Today, 28th of June, a lovely author I know and appreciate has a special post on her blog. I have been looking forward to seeing this since she first explained about it.

At present I am having some issues with logging into my blog here. I think a clash of technology is behind the problem. Hopefully, I’ll get it resolved quickly, but just in case I can’t get in this morning I have set this post up so you won’t miss the opportunity to visit

Carmen Stefanescu’s blog.

Carmen is an accomplished author and a superb reviewer of books. I have learned a great deal from her approach to reviews. On her blog you will find fascinating information, links to review sites, and to other authors, as well as information about her books, the latest one being

Till Life Do Us Part.

Till Life Do us part-001

Click the cover to buy.

See you at


Back from vacation.

Back from vacation.

I have been away on holiday for the last couple of weeks and enjoyed a taste of life as it was lived in the past.



I stayed in this delightful, tiny thatched cottage on the Norfolk coast; a place I’d recommend to anyone who wants a relaxing break. In this particular location I had no internet connection and even mobile, (cell, for US readers) phone coverage was sporadic. I truly felt I’d stepped into a bygone era. I know not everyone wants that kind of disconnect from the 21st century, but after the initial shock I found I could cope. If I’d thought things would be permanently that way I might have felt different. 🙂

I took long strolls along the beach in both rain and shine, listened to the surf as it pounded or whispered its mood on the sands, and I let my mind wander where it willed.

Beach 2

The hours of my days seemed to stretch and there were several times when I glanced at the clock and could hardly believe I’d done so much with my morning or afternoon. There is something to be said for this quality of peace.

Beach holiday

 I’ve rarely experienced having a beach to myself, or stood alone to peer at a wide horizon and coastline that seems only set there to remind me how small I truly am. My day to day fretful concerns suddenly seemed like they weren’t such a big deal after all.

I’m home again now, the normal routine asserting itself and taking my concentration, but I’ll recollect this break for a long time.

Thanks for reading.

Daisy Banks


Celebrate Release Day for Till Life Do Us Part

Please help celebrate release day for

Carmen Stefanescu’s latest book

Till Life Do US Part.

Till Life Do us part-001

Click the cover to buy.


Barbara Heyer can hear voices of dead people. They whisper of their deaths, seek comfort for those left behind, and occasionally even warn her about future events. But when Barbara’s brother, Colin, is accused of murder, it will take more than her gift to prove his innocence.

Becoming smitten with the handsome investigator, Detective Patrick Fischer, is a serious complication given his assignment to her brother’s case. Barbara senses there is something far deeper—and perhaps much older—than the surface attraction between them. Could that be why she’s visited by a mysterious woman named Emma in her dreams? Could past life regression tie all the seemingly unconnected events together?

Barbara and Patrick must overcome heartache to find the truth to save Colin, and perhaps themselves.


My review of this story.

Till Life Do Us Part is a paranormal tale that investigates the power, passion, and problems associated with reincarnation. It is a compelling read and one I enjoyed. Ms. Stefanescu weaves a tale linking past and present laced with trauma, powerful love, deep emotions both good and bad, and leads the reader on a journey of many discoveries. The story is a wonderful mixture of events in the lives of several characters interlinked by the process of renincarnation. Such is the power of the writing I was never confused as to who or when things happened. The characters walk the pages of this book with powerful individualities and evoke a strong response in the reader. This is not always a gentle story but remains strong all the way through. The situations in the contemporary section are very realistic and more than once I was on the edge of my seat wondering how things would pan out. The historic elements of the story are well shown and offer glimpses of a time when the world was very different from the one we know.

All in all I enjoyed this tale. I would recommend it to anyone who wants a story that will sweep them away into another time and place, and offer them glimpses of the sheer strength of love.


carmenAuthor Bio

Carmen Stefanescu resides in Romania, the native country of the infamous vampire Count Dracula, but where, for about 50 years of communist dictatorship, just speaking about God, faith, reincarnation or paranormal phenomena could have led someone to great trouble – the psychiatric hospital if not to prison.

Teacher of English and German in her native country and mother of two daughters, Carmen Stefanescu survived the grim years of oppression, by escaping in a parallel world that of the books.

She has dreamed all her life to become a writer, but many of the things she wrote during those years remained just drawer projects. The fall of the Ceausescu’s regime in 1989 and the opening of the country to the world meant a new beginning for her. She started publishing. Several of her poems were successfully published in a collection of Contemporary English Poems, Muse Whispers vol.1 and Muse Whispers vol.2 by Midnight Edition Publication, in 2001 and 2002.

Her first novel, Shadows of the Past, was released in 2012 by Wild Child Publishing, USA.

Carmen joined the volunteer staff at Marketing For Romance Writers Author blog and is the coordinator of #Thursday13 posts.


You can stalk the author here:

Celebrate Release Day for Barbara’s Redemption.


Today is release day for

Barbara’s Redemption


Diane Saxon.

Congratulations Diane, on another super story and a stunning new cover.

This is an 18+ book.

Read the first Chapter below.


Click the cover to buy.



Black Hawk pilot Captain Barbara Lynn Perry is running scared. Witness to an event too horrible to think about and too dangerous to talk of, she finds herself alienated from a world she has always had faith in.

With her Special Forces brother missing, she has only one other person to turn to. When her friend Flynn Swann isn’t available, Barbara is left with no choice but to trust the man Flynn sends to save her.

Psychiatrist Dominic Salter’s information from her superior officer’s file is that Barbara has gone rogue. Despite the damning evidence, every instinct tells him he’s dealing with an honorable woman, one who single-handedly saved Flynn from torture and a sure death. Dominic’s challenge is to delve his way beneath her tough, defensive attitude and coax the truth from a woman who’s too frightened to reveal her dark secret.

In his brand new facility containing a state of the art Dreampsych Transcender he’s experimenting with, a machine far beyond a simulator, Dominic has to gain the trust and confidence of Barbara while he resists the hard pull of attraction to this kick-ass woman.

Betrayed by a member of his staff, events take a sinister turn, and the pressure is on in a fight against time for Dominic to persuade Barbara to put her trust in him and reveal the truth before matters are taken out of his hands.

Pre-Order Links & Order Links

Amazon UK | Amazon.Com |   | iTunes




Chapter One

She raised a shaky hand to rub her fingertips over taut lips and tried to swallow, but her tongue was too thick to allow it, her mouth too dry to comply. She held the same hand horizontally in front of her face and watched the vague tremble. The tremor that threatened her sharp shot. The shake that no longer allowed her to pick up a glass of whiskey without being a dead giveaway.

She needed help.


Flynn could help.

She’d saved his life, goddammit. Of course he would help.

So she waited in the silent twilight for Flynn to come.

Pitch black descended and still no sign of the man. So dark she could no longer see the trembling hand in front of her face, but the sweat still formed in the creases along her palm, making her hand slip as she tightened her grip on the gun. She swapped it over from right to left while she rubbed the damp onto the leg of her black yoga pants. It made no difference, she could shoot as well with one hand as the other. Not that she could see to shoot, but she hadn’t imagined for one moment Flynn would have kept her waiting this long, and dark would close in before he arrived.

She’d hunkered down in the comfort of the straw, her mind filled with visions of blood and gunshots while night descended faster than she’d realized.

She’d kept Flynn waiting three nights previously. God only knew how long he’d waited for her, but she’d listened to her sixth sense, believed someone else was there at the meeting point, and she’d hightailed it out of there, leaving Flynn to his own devices. He was still a tough cookie. No point in her hanging around to save him. She’d already saved his sorry ass once before.

The dim light of the stables flickered on and filled the place with a dull buzzing sound. Cautious, she straightened and moved toward her target. The cowboy seemed to be the right height, but it looked like Flynn had gone to seed since leaving the Special Forces three years earlier. She’d heard rumors he hadn’t coped well with civilian life. Probably more to do with having half his face carved up. She twitched her nose in distaste. The voices of the men who had tortured him filled her head, the vicious sound of their hyena cackles as they cut Flynn with glee. It hadn’t been the prettiest of sights, but she’d seen worse. She’d even killed men herself, but never for fun. Only out of necessity, duty, and a desperate desire to live.

It was the pleasure they’d taken out of torturing a man that had turned her stomach. Not that anyone knew. She’d die before she allowed anyone to see her

weakness. It looked like she may have to, after recent events. She’d thought she’d never witness anything worse than Flynn’s torture. But she had.

She closed her eyes and took a moment to control her pulse rate before she stepped forward.

The cowboy turned, staggered slightly in the dead giveaway of a drunken sidestep, and smiled broad and sloppy as his unfocused gaze met hers. Drawing in a deep, slow breath, she realized her mistake. It wasn’t Flynn.

With no other option, Barbara tucked her gun into the back of her pants. It was a mistake she would never have made a month ago. One that under any other circumstances would have cost her life. Lucky for her, it was only some piss head in her way.

“Hey.” Loose-limbed, she stepped forward, a deliberate wide smile in place. “I’m looking for Flynn. Is he here?”

Confusion flitted across the man’s face, his brows pulled down in an exaggerated drunken frown.

“He’s a dipshit.”

Surprise at his viciousness stopped her advance as the man swayed, took two clumsy steps to his left before he gained his balance, and stood swaying before her. His thin lips twisted, bitter and angry.

“You’re not his girl. His girl’s a fuckin’ little bitch. Lost me my job and had me arrested.”

With barely a twitch of her eyebrow, Barbara skimmed her gaze over him. Nasty little fucker. Reminded her of her mother’s boyfriend. Several of her mother’s boyfriends. But one in particular had been a mean son of a bitch. He’d slapped her around plenty, until her mother had caught him and almost pulled his hair out by the roots. Her mother may have had scores of men come and go after Barbara’s father’s death, but she never let a single one mess with her daughter.

Barbara narrowed her eyes at him, never flinched as the horse behind her snorted and stamped impatiently in its stall. All her concentration centered on the drunk. She’d learned long ago with hard lessons not to take her gaze off the threat. This guy was definitely a threat.

“No, I’m not his girl. Have you seen him?”

He rubbed his hand over his lips, sly gaze darting sideways. “I heard he left with the slut.”

Muscles tense, Barbara felt the sick slide of dread. “Where’d he go?”

“New Zealand. They were talking about it in the jailhouse.”


“The fucking sheriff and his fucking deputies.”

“What were you doing there?” She wasn’t interested, but she could see him lowering his guard as they chatted. She never lowered hers. That’s what got you killed.

The guy turned his head and spat into the hay and then sneered at her. “Mistaken identity.” He held up a hand with fingers swathed in bandages.


“Flynn’s bitch said I went after her. It was her who attacked me and broke my fucking little finger.”

She repressed the desire to smile. She hadn’t much to smile about, but it seemed as though Flynn could have met his match after all.

“Stupid fuckers let my wife bail me out.”

Barbara couldn’t stop the blink of surprise. He had a wife? Poor woman.

“She’s my ex-wife.” His mean eyes flickered down. “She just wants rid of me.”

She could imagine why.

Barbara watched as he skimmed his bloodshot gaze over her, recognized the lascivious leer, and knew instinctively she wasn’t simply going to walk away from their encounter. “So, what are your plans?”

“Fuckers took my gun, but I had another one they didn’t know about at my stupid fucking wife’s house. She didn’t even know it was there. I’m going to take me a horse and ride out of here, and no one is going to stop me.”

She stepped back and spread her arms wide for him to carry on. “I wouldn’t want to try.”

He took a small, stumbling step forward and then lurched at her. Little shit, she never quite saw him coming. She’d somehow thought he would have a little more finesse. His body slammed into hers, and she realized what she’d thought was fat was one hell of a lot of solid muscle bound tightly in that fat.

As he took her down, she allowed her body to go loose. She anticipated the fast whoosh of air that expelled from her lungs, but his weight was a little harder and heavier than she had expected. Winded, she lay still for a long moment. By the time she recovered, he had her breast in his hand, squeezing it tightly. Pain and indignation radiated through her, but as she tried to move, he slung his leg over both of hers to pin her to the ground. The metal buckle on his belt dug hard into the flesh of her belly, and as she wriggled in the straw, the slide of it cut in deeper. The solid press of her own gun into her spine had her stilling.

The guy was an idiot; sometimes they just made it too easy by underestimating her. She may only be five feet four inches, but she was a trained soldier, goddammit.

With a weary sigh, she gave her head a disgusted shake and tightened her lips as she slipped his gun from his hip holster and held it against his temple before he could take another drunken grunt. She pulled back the hammer and met the surprise in his rheumy eyes. There was barely a tremor in her grip as her finger softened against the trigger. No need to terminate him, provided he was reasonable.


The quiet snick of metal stopped her mid thought.

“Take the gun away from Buddy’s head.” Mellow Irish tones reasoned with her from behind her head.

She held it firm, never so much as twitched.

The silver glint of a gun slid into her peripheral vision and kicked up her pulse.

“I’ve got him covered, Barbara, you can remove your gun.” Her name from the unfamiliar Irish voice had her hesitating.

The sour smell of whiskey puffed over her skin, and the bloated face of the drunk still lying on top of her gave her a moment’s pause. She could have simply immobilized him and left him writhing in agony on the floor by twisting his already broken finger, or she could blow his brains out, the stupid fuck.

It wouldn’t have bothered her.

Sweat slicked on the handle of the gun to make a liar of her. Who was she trying to kid? It was never a choice she’d make to deliberately take a life. He may be stupid, but he was no longer a threat.


Where to Find Diane Saxon

Author Website | Author Blog | Facebook  | Author Twitter | Goodreads Author |

Author Amazon Profile Page


About the Author

Diane Saxon lives in the Shropshire countryside with her tall, dark, handsome husband, two gorgeous daughters, a Dalmatian, one-eyed kitten, ginger cat, four chickens and a new black Labrador puppy called Beau, whose name has been borrowed for her hero in For Heaven’s Cakes.


After working for years in a demanding job, on-call and travelling great distances, Diane gave it all up when her husband said “follow that dream”.


Having been hidden all too long, her characters have burst forth demanding plot lines of their own and she’s found the more she lets them, the more they’re inclined to run wild.


Previous Books:


Loving Lydia -Atlantic Divide Book 1

Bad Girl Bill – Atlantic Divide Book 2

Finding Zoe – Atlantic Divide Book 3

Flight of Her Life

Flynn’s Kiss – Disarmed & Dangerous Book 1

Short Circuit Time

For Heaven’s Cakes

Banshee Seduction – Montgomery’s Sin, Book 1

A not so lovely blooming Monday.

1 Giant HOgweed

A not so lovely blooming Monday.


This astonishing plant stole my weekend. I discovered it in my garden and have spent most of the last two days getting rid of it. You might wonder why I would want to destroy it. This plant is sculptural in its beauty, almost architectural in its form, and surely a stunning addition to any garden.

Yes, it has a certain beauty about it and the prolific flowers offer pollen to all kinds of insects. Yet, I was compelled to do everything I could to try to take it out of the garden. The reason is, this is Heracleum Mantegazzianum, commonly known as Giant Hogweed.

The plant is highly toxic to humans and contact with it can cause horrific blistering and burns. In some cases the skin damage can be so bad people require hospital treatment. The results of burns from this plant can be long lasting photosensitivity to sunlight which can go on for years.  If any sap gets in the eyes it can cause temporary blindness, if the damage is bad, possibly permanent blindness. It is illegal to deliberately grow this in the UK. However, this plant does grow in the wild. It is usually eradicated when discovered because it is so dangerous to people who don’t recognise it.

I believe that the plant in my garden self set there. I certainly didn’t plant it. When I realised what it was, the plant stood at about three foot tall. Giant Hogweed can grow up to about fourteen foot. I believe all the growth has taken place this spring. To deal with this toxic plant I had to use my longest cutters so I could take it down section by section. I also had to wear gloves and I used an old welding mask I have in the garage to make sure the sap didn’t get in my eyes. I had to work quite slowly on this job because of how dangerous this plant can be. Most of it is down now but I have to deal with the root and make sure it hasn’t reproduced and set any young plants in the garden.

I hope the next lot of gardening I do will be more fun, less time consuming, and a whole lot safer than this weekend’s work. Do enjoy your garden if you have one, and I hope you don’t ever have to deal with something quite as difficult as Giant Hogweed.


Thanks for reading.

Daisy Banks