BookShop: Court of Contempt

BookShop: Court of Contempt



Buy my book 'Court of Contempt', the first instalment of the 'Family Division' series, directly from my publisher, Bookbaby.



MJ xx

Bookbaby Bookshop

Hello there,

Just an ickle post to inform you that you can now buy my book 'Court of Contempt' directly from the publishers. For UK readers, this may be the most cost-effective way of doing it due to the favourable exchange rate.

http://my.bookbaby.com/book/court-of-contempt

Have fun - and please do come and see me over at Wordpress

Cheers,

MJ xx

I am now over on Wordpress….. still not making any sense whatsoever, but at least I haven't died

http://mjmcgheeauthor.wordpress.com


I am now operating from here. Much easier I'm afraid and I've decided to settle there in my new home. I've transferred everything from here to there (get me?!) so you won't have missed a thing. Sorry the quality of post hasn't improved with the move….

See you o'er there,

MJ xx

I AM HERE NOW!! As you were…. (no more shout capitals!)

I am here now!! As you were xx

Maybe tomorrow I'll wanna settle down, until tomorrow….

Hello peoples!

Decided to give Wordpress a whirl. Apparently they are the Daddy of the Blogging World, so we'll see. In the meantime, get this into your You Are Ell:

http://mjmcgheeauthor.wordpress.com

Go for it - you know you want to!! Just consider it akin to a move from mainland France to Corsica…. Or from the United States of America to Alaska. I'm still there, just a bit geographically detached.

The beauty of Wordpress is that you can see all of my many, many, many social media platforms in one place courtesy of a widget. And for those of you who are old enough to remember the John Smiths Bitter commercials with Jack Dee:

'A widget, she's got a widget, a little widget, a widget she has got!'

TTFN

MJ xx

Second book, Selby, Sisal, Sex, Sex and Sex

Hello there.

May the sixth be with you. Story of my life, too late.

Exciting news today as I met with the artiste par excellence, the one and only Hollie Hyde, the creator of the stockinged legs and high Louboutin shoes that is the 'Court of Contempt' cover. An outrageously talented artiste, she is also quite the wordsmith, taking the project very seriously and making sure colours, words and scale are all congruent. Her sketches are sublime. Her inspiration for the second cover is second-to-none. The cover is going to be something special, and I hope the barristers amongst you will appreciate the attention to fine detail.

Meanwhile, I have to confess that I have been a bit disillusioned with the name 'Court of Deception'. As some of you will know, I was ricocheting between that and the 'Court of Protection' under the umbrella title 'Family Division' series. Miss Hyde can take the credit, but the image she sketched does rather lend itself to a racier title. After a shot of strong caffeine and a jolly good brainstorm, the new title jumped out at us. Fanfare - ta da ta da daaaaaah…...

'JUSTICE PERVERTED'

I think it's a stunning title, so appropriate for the raunchy content I told you about and in keeping with the cover! Now I can't wait to publish it! That involves writing, of course. Hmmm, better get back to it then.

Another gorgeous day chez McGhee, and a trip down to the seaside beckoned. A big high five to the jobs worth traffic warden who appeared staring in at me through my windscreen, nearly triggering a coronary, and telling me I had to move on unless I bought a ticket. Alas, she was clearly running on GMT, as the payment time expired 30 minutes previously. Aw bless. I resisted the urge to flip the bird! She was just subjected to a smug but nonetheless deathly stare all the way back to her space ship!

And finally…..

Mark Selby won the World Championship Snooker title at the Crucible Theatre, Sheffield last night,  beating Ronnie O'Sullivan 18-14. Told ya! Felicitations Selbers - give us a kiss xx

MJ xx

p.s. R.I.P.  M.J.O. xx

Baltacha, bluebells and butterflies on a Bank Holiday….

Morning,

So very sad to hear of the death of Elena Baltacha, the British No.1, who succumbed to liver cancer yesterday. She suffered from a chronic liver condition from the age of 19, but she did not let it stop her achieving amazing goals in the British tennis world. A wonderful ambassador for the sport. A true champion in both tennis and life. I'll be seeing you in the locker room soon, Bally. xx

Am looking forward to writing with World Championship snooker in the background. The sound of clunking snooker balls is surprisingly therapeutic. Anyway, as promised, more photos. A beautiful butterfly captured on my travels yesterday:

I have no idea what type of butterfly this is. I am not David Attenborough. Or David Bellamy. I wonder what has happened to the latter? He used to emerge through massive foliage sporting a permanently gurning expression scaring the life out of a very young me! Anyway, you don't need to be Messrs Attenborough or Bellamy to appreciate bluebells in the woods:

Truly inspiring and so beautiful to admire. You cannot recapture their beauty on film. They proliferate year-on-year. The contrast of the dark woodland only serves to make them appear even more vibrant. Speaking of vibrancy, another delightful sight is a field of rapeseed oil:

I assure you I was not driving at the time whilst taking these images! I can remember seeing these yellow fields on a trip to Haddo House in Aberdeenshire when I was eleven and staring at them in wonderment, mistaking them for a genetically-modified form of buttercup. They have captivated me every year since. I certainly wouldn't advise walking through a field of them, which I did whilst under the influence of alcohol as a nineteen year old, ruining my old stonewashed Levi's 501!

Anyway, more writing achieved today, with even more ideas springing into my head for future novels. More will be revealed at some point. I need to focus on the task in hand and do the best job on this series first.

Hope you are all enjoying a fabulous Bank Holiday.

MJ xx

p.s. At the time of posting: Selby is 12-11 ahead in the final! Go Selby!

Don't be a follower - be a leader! xx

Montpellier, Trinh Duc, Selby, Snooker and what a load of horse chestnuts…..

Morning people on this gloriously sunny Sunday! It's a peach! It's a damn cold wind though, so I have donned the thermals again before going on a brisk walk on the Downs.

Meanwhile, it's the time of the week for a bit of a sporting round-up. Well, sports that I'm interested in. Some readers have asked me about Darya's interest in Montpellier… Why Montpellier, for heaven's sake? Well, why not? They have finished second in the French Top 14 this season with a stunning 44-10 victory over the array of stars at Racing-Metro Paris. May I remind you that amongst Racing's glittering ranks are Irish first-choice fly-half Jonny Sexton, Welsh international centre Jamie Roberts and the fantastic French hooker Dimitri Szarzewski.

In the book, I mention the impish fly-half Francois Trinh-Duc. He also happens to be the captain of the team. Here he is:

There we are. An 'impish' kind of face, as described in the book. Very cute. He also scored a try yesterday. He's been capped numerous times for Les Bleus since his debut in 2007. Yes, yes yes… what? This isn't the photo you wanted? What? You want nudity? Certainly not! Not on this blog. Never mind what goes on in my book. Book and blog are not one and the same and no, life should not follow art….. oh if you insist, just to get you off my back!!

Satisfied? On a Sunday as well?! You should all be ashamed of yourselves, and shame on me for succumbing to such pressure!! I'm sure you can appreciate Darya's 'appreciation' of Montpellier rugby now…. Anyway, she'll be packing her Lulu Guinness case and clearing off to France for the semi-finals no doubt, with her Montpellier scarf neatly folded in amongst her Passionata lingerie, chanting 'Ici, ici, C'est Mont-Pel-Lier!'

Writing has been somewhat interrupted by all the sporting events going on this weekend. I watched Perpignan (aka USAP) slide out of the Top 14 with Biarritz. Two big guns with three titles between them in the last nine years. Oh the times, they are a changing…. Brett and Felix would be gutted at their beloved Everton succumbing to the irresistible Pellegrini's Manchester City 2-3 at Goodison Park. Manchester United's fortunes at Old Trafford don't seem to have completely reversed as they lost 0-1 to Sunderland. And I am trying to write whilst cheering for Mark Selby in the final of the World Snooker Championships at Sheffield. He has such a cheeky smile and the tightest buns I have seen on a snooker player bending over a long stretch of green baize in a long time…. and here he is….

Anyway, I have bored you enough with my sport. I also have another obsession that is growing at the moment. Horse chestnut trees. They are everywhere. I was out last night and found a lovely horse chestnut tree by the sea. I found another this afternoon on my travels. They are like white lupins in the sky. Candles at the end of their branches. Absolutely gorgeous, and incredibly early due to the incredibly mild winter we had. 

Aren't they magnificent? I also have photos of my other seasonal obsessions: butterflies, bluebells and rapeseed oil fields. But I think you have been treated to enough for one posting. I must get back to this writing….. and snooker….. 

A demain readers,

MJ xx

p.s. Delighted to welcome my first visitors from Darya's Motherland - Russia! Looking forward to taking my story to St. Petersburg….. 

Morris Dancing My Way Round The Maypole

Hello!

It's May Bank Holiday, which gives numerous English men in villages up and down the country an excuse to don silly trousers, leap around, wave tissues, clash sticks. It's called Morris Dancing. It's akin to the 'hopscotch' game we used to play as children, only we did it far more stylishly! Apparently they also wear bells around their ankles. In any other civilisation, they'd all probably be arrested….  Here's a group of enthusiastic exponents doing their thang….

Errr yes. Well, before you move on to the next blog, I have to tell you that the ending of 'Court of Deception' is going to be very, very explosive. I don't think you, as a reader, will see it coming, although some people have fed back to me on incidents that occurred in the first book and I've said… 'aaah yeeeeaaah', trying to cover the fact I have completely forgotten about it! It's amazing what happens once you abandon your piece of creativity and move onto the next one. Although with a trilogy, you need to occasionally flip back to previous volumes to ensure continuity. I mean, it wouldn't do for Darya to be waking up next to… Lucy, would it?!!


So it's back to the grindstone. The artiste is onto the second illustration to adorn the cover. Printed copies of the first volume will be available soon, and signed in my own fair hand. I wonder if it will be done in pink nail varnish?

Happy holiday weekend. Please please please keep buying. Tell your friends, enemies, husbands, mistresses, page boys and matrons!

MJ xx

p.s. I'm delighted to note my German posse of followers is incrementally growing…. I'm very pro-European you know….

How do you cope with the violent death of a teacher you loved?

Afternoon peoples!

Ca va bien? Some readers have asked me about the relevance of the hot French guy Darya meets in the New Forest and subsequently at the rugby the following day. Well…. it's a jolly good reason to keep reading and find out if he makes another appearance.

Just taking a break right now from ploughing through the second one. I have 4 proofreaders and 1 editor on standby for when it is ready. I am meeting with the illustrious illustrator tomorrow. As you can see, yesterday afternoon was spent by the sea on another glorious day. Alas, like life, the good stuff doesn't stick around for long enough, and it's back to the grim weather. 1st May. How depressing. Last night I went out and was too tired to put anything else up except my weekly 'plog' - just in case you'd forgotten that there is a book out there….

Right, it's May Bank Holiday this weekend, and I'm on lockdown for the next two weeks whilst I set about the second instalment. I have French rugby intervening this weekend, with the conclusion of the Top 14. We will then know who is going to be in the semi-finals and who are the 'barragistes'. Montpellier, Darya's favourite, currently lie second behind Jonny Wilkinson's Toulon. If they can win at home against Racing Metro Paris, they will be guaranteed a semi-final spot at home, the glorious Stade Yves du Manoir. So, apart from the odd occasional blogette when I shall simply be coming up for air just to let you know I am still alive, this will be the last substantive blog until the release of the second book. Yeah right. I say that now, but the chances are you'll still be treated (or subjected) to daily updates of the writing process.

The killing of Ann Maguire on Monday, the Spanish teacher at Corpus Christi Catholic College in Leeds by one of her pupils reminds me of an incident from my childhood involving another teacher, who we all knew and revered. I hope there are sufficient counselling services available for the children who witnessed the tragedy on Monday. They will need it. This incident will have a profound affect on the rest of their lives. It will be something they revisit time and time again. Could they have prevented it? What if Mrs Maguire hadn't gone into school that day? Could they have assisted? I cannot imagine how traumatic it must have been for those witnessing the events, but I can empathise in some small measure what it is like to lose a wonderful teacher in violent circumstances. I had no counselling support after the tragic death of Sr. Ogilvie in 1988, and it impacted upon the rest of my childhood.

Sister Josephine Ogilvie was a member of the Society of the Sacred Heart, an internationally-renowned teaching order of nuns. She taught in Armagh, Craiglockhart in Edinburgh and at Kilgraston in Perthshire before settling in Aberdeen in 1983. She taught at primary school level before she was appointed a religious education adviser for the Diocese of Aberdeen. In that capacity, she travelled throughout the diocese, visiting primary schools and engaging with the pupils. She was a delightful, kind woman who never saw fit to lose her temper or raise her voice, even though she was once titled the 'Mistress of Discipline ' in Armagh.

On Friday 6th May 1988, she was working in her office, now called the Pastoral Centre, which was situated in an ante-room adjacent to St. Mary's R.C. Cathedral. The office shared a lobby with the apartment of another nun from another order, Sr. Mary MacDonald, who happened to be the Diocesan Social Worker and who was not present at the time. That day around 3pm, Mark Reynolds, who had previously engaged with Sr. Mary with long-standing drug and alcohol abuse issues, visited the cathedral with tragic consequences for Sr. Ogilvie. No one quite knows what happened, suffice to say that it is thought that he swore at Sr. Ogilvie, she told him off and he, in his own words, 'lost it'. The priest who also worked in the Pastoral Centre then tried to enter the office but the door was shut on him from the other side. The man was then seen running out of a fire exit, over a wall, and onto Union Street, the main shopping street in Aberdeen. He was seen clutching some of his own and Sr. Ogilvie's clothes. He was covered in blood.

Sr. Ogilvie was dead. She was 59 years old which, for anyone who has been taught by nuns in their life will know, is an exceptionally young age for them to pass away. I think one is still going from the convent right now at 104.  Anyway, the injuries she sustained were horrific and numerous. Sixty separate injuries in total. According to the coroner, her body was in a similar state to those involved in a serious road traffic accident. Fortuitously, she died early on in the attack from a heart attack as a result of a fractured larynx.

The following morning, my Dad, who is, at times, as subtle as a sledgehammer, announced that a nun had been murdered at the cathedral whilst reading the local paper. As a young child with a curiosity that only developed to an insatiable level when I got older (to the level of downright nosiness), I glanced at the front page as I was sitting beside him in the living room. It was the first moment in my life that I just stopped dead and went numb. It was a grainy photograph, but I distinctly recognised the face smiling back at me. I'd only seen it the previous week when she was leaning over my school desk having a good chat with me. Well I couldn't believe it.  I walked around in a state of shock for the next few months. To say it impacted rather negatively upon my childhood is an understatement. I had an audition for the now defunct Children's Theatre at the Arts Centre the night before the funeral. I can remember putting in such a mediocre performance because I was thinking about the next day that I didn't get in,  and I never had the confidence to try theatre again, which is a great shame. It was one of the very few things I enjoyed and appeared to be good at. Even my mother commented that I 'played to the gallery', although this was meant as a criticism.

It marked the beginning of my personal detachment from my catholic religion. How on earth could a God allow something like this to happen to someone so lovely and defile a Cathedral I had attended throughout my childhood? And, if that had to happen, why did he have to pick a lovely nun for such a violent end?

The funeral was held on the following Thursday, coincidentally Ascension Thursday that year. The Cathedral was packed as over 1000 mourners attended. I was very small at the time,  and it was a most emotional experience as it was my very first funeral, but I can remember that I had never seen the Cathedral so full of nuns. They were everywhere. For me that was concerning, as I'd very much enjoyed a hate-hate relationship with the Brides of Christ up to that point. It would be different now, as they no longer wear the full habit, which is even scarier as I wouldn't be able to identify them!

It's nearly 26 years since Sr. Ogilvie died. Last year, on 6th May 2013,  I attended her grave in Aberdeen with a small aubretia plant, which I planted at her head, marking the 25th anniversary of her death. I believe her assailant's parents, who were staunch catholics and completely destroyed by the murder, used to leave flowers at her grave. I think even Sr. Ogilvie's rosary was given to his mother as a symbol of reconciliation. I stood there in the rare Aberdeen spring sunshine, listening to the traffic passing on the Great Southern Road, which runs directly next to the community plot where she is buried. The trees had overgrown behind the plot now, and the bluebells were thriving up the bank leading up to the road. The old Aberdeen-Ballater disused railway line that was used transporting monarchs to Balmoral up until 1966 runs alongside the wall to the left as she continued to lie there with 13 or 14 other nuns, who presumably died natural deaths. The most startling thing was that I realised I had changed so much since the first time I stood on that spot in 1988. I felt so different. So surreal. Almost detached from the drama of her death. Looking at the simple cross that dominated the graves, with the roll call of names of nuns passed, I felt I had come to terms with what had happened. She was no longer there. I wondered what on earth she would have thought if she could have seen me now. Lawyer, soon-to-be writer. I know for a fact she would have disapproved greatly of the content of my novel. But I imagine she would have read it nonetheless, as she was a part of the process of my upbringing, and addressed me in a very gentle tone starting with the words, 'Now, about that book you wrote….'

The fact that I still think of her from time to time is a credit to her memory and her ability to engage with young people in such a positive and charismatic way. I hope the pupils of Corpus Christi eventually remember Mrs. Maguire in such a way, instead of her violent demise. Sr. Ogilvie's death did have a positive impact upon me in some ways though. Much was made of her assailant's drug habit, with much detail in the press as to the cocktail of narcotics he was taking prior to her death. As a result, I never indulged in drugs. In my youthful naivety, I thought drugs would make me go around murdering nice nuns.

Anyway, this has been such a morbid update, and I need to get back to work!

Laters,

MJ xx

Shameless plog time…. a.k.a. The Hard Sell

There's a book out there you know. Just in case you didn't, it's called 'Court of Contempt', and it's written by me, M.J. McGhee. In my own fair hand, it is. It's only been out in the ether for 21 days, it has. You want your own (virtual) fair hands all over it?

Glamazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Court-Contempt-Family-Division-McGhee-ebook/dp/B00JJ848V6/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1398895119&sr=8-1&keywords=mj+mcghee

Glamazon US: http://www.amazon.com/Court-Contempt-Family-Division-McGhee-ebook/dp/B00JJ848V6


Nook a Book: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/court-of-contempt-mj-mcghee/1119130713?ean=9781483521169


Kobo: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/court-of-contempt


Scribd: http://www.scribd.com/doc/216471085/Court-of-Contempt?fb_action_ids=1459360644300333&fb_action_types=og.likes&fb_source=feed_opengraph&action_object_map=%7B%221459360644300333%22%3A703025703083743%7D&action_type_map=%7B%221459360644300333%22%3A%22og.likes%22%7D&action_ref_map=%5B%5D

Copia: http://www.thecopia.com/catalog/details.html?catId=15856091

iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/gb/book/court-of-contempt/id855957316?mt=11


I thank you I do, and bid you good night!


A demain

MJ xx

p.s. Delighted to welcome my first viewers from Germany, Bulgaria, China and Mexico. The blog's getting a nice international feel to it….

Don't Come The Cowboy With Me, Sonny Jim

Good morning. Bonne matin et al.

I've been typing away to the late, great Kirsty MacColl's wonderful album 'Kite' since before it got light. It's wonderfully jaunty and infectious, and particularly useful if you want to wind the not-so-bright neighbours up with your out-of-tune wailing first thing in the morning as an act of revenge for banging their garage door EVERY single morning. There is something cathartic about wailing. 'I'll see you baby, when the clans rise again, women and men, united by the struggle going down,' at the top of one's voice in the morning.

 Poor Kirsty came to a very sticky end when she was decapitated by a rogue speed boat driver who came charging through with his piece of metal into a designated swimming area at a resort in Mexico around Christmas 2000. She put herself in the firing line to save her sons. It's an awful ending, and frankly it gives her music added poignancy. Towards the end of her life, she was heavily influenced by Cuban music. What a woman! RIP Kirsty, and thanks for the music.

I am now trying to increase my word count to 7000 a day. I may die myself before this book is finished. After I've had my fix of Kirsty, I think I may move on to Joan Baez. I was reminded by a lovely friend yesterday of her music. I just hope I am not the author of my own misfortune by creating another blub-fest like yesterday's. Mabel didn't like all that moisture over her keys. I hope she doesn't talk to her Union and go on strike like the Tube staff!

I notice the horse chestnut trees are flowering already. What a glorious sight they are. Their numerous cathedral-like flowers always look so glorious.  I am intending to go on a nice little jaunt later down by the sea once the mist clears and the sun makes a brief appearance. I get so much more done when I'm not burying myself under the layers of social media. I'm also so inspired listening to those breaks, transporting me off to the world of Brett and Darya.

Laters,


MJ xx

Yesterday…..

All my troubles seemed so faaaar away…. now it looks as though they're here to stay….

Ahem! Good evening! As promised, herewith attached is the view from my desk yesterday afternoon. A warm breeze complemented the gentle breaking of the waves. As you will also note, Mabel the Mac has photobombed the panoramic view.

I introduced Darya's mother, Vanya, to the story today. She is inspired by my own mother, who was a hippy, then a wife, a mother… and, above all, an irresponsible letdown who turned her back on her children when they needed her the most, and selfishly walked away without any appreciation of the emotional carnage she left behind. One day, she just inexplicably decided to eradicate twenty years of her life. She left me hurting, and it still hurts to this day. I realised as the tears were running down my face onto my keyboard that one never gets over a rejection by a parent. One just tries to learn to live with it.

By doing this, I cannot deny it has been an emotional writing experience today, especially as it is now impossible to right the wrongs that were done all those years ago. However, it has meant that I've reminisced about my own childhood sounds today, and one of the positives from my mother was the introduction of the genius that is Joni Mitchell into my life. My mother played three of her first folky albums, Clouds, Ladies of the Canyon and Blue, on long car journeys. I knew all the words to 'Big Yellow Taxi' and 'Carey' by the age of 7. I could play 'My Old Man' (a personal favourite of mine for different reasons) on the organ at 10. Later on my older sister (who is far more intelligent and talented than me)  then introduced me to her experimental era, with the fabulous 'For the Roses', the pop-inspired 'Court and Spark', the jazz and blues of the 'Hissing of Summer Lawns', and the wonderful 'Hejira'.  So I have spent the day as a 'Free Man in Paris', knowing that 'In France They Kiss on Main Street', watching a 'Black Crow' flying and eating a 'Little Green' cucumber.

So I reached my 5000 daily target today listening to a Joni Mitchell medley on repeat, just like my mother did all those years ago. I would have loved to have known her thoughts at the time. I wish she had taken the time to explain. Perhaps I might have understood. Or at least tried to. She gave birth to me, and I suppose for that alone, I will always be grateful.

See you tomorrow, peoples. Here comes a Rainy Night…!!

MJ xx

… of a Tuesday

Good morning peoples!

The title came from the classic film 'Way Out West' starring two of my favourite comedians, Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy. It's a line I've quoted since childhood. They've come to deliver grave news to the young beneficiary of the recently deceased. The couple in the scene are masquerading as the bereaved. She asks 'What did he die of?' Stan responds, 'I think he died of a Tuesday, or was it of a Wednesday?' I love Ollie's wide-eyed expression. I often pulled that same expression when something happened in court that surprised everyone. It's timeless comedy and I attach the link to the very scene.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=96po3FRJ9uk


Little moments like this can only enhance what is a miserable weather day. I have to express my deepest sympathy to those having to use the vagaries of public transport in London today. Thank heavens my days of commuting are well and truly over. Travelling in London is never a pleasant thing. I remember in 2005, in the aftermath of 7/7 when a significant part of the network was closed, and every man and his dog were using alternative tube lines. I had to travel from Chancery Lane - Paddington, negotiating the packed Central then Bakerloo lines. Like Darya, I also got my heels stuck in drains whilst commuting. However, I digress. One particular early evening, I was standing on Chancery Lane Westbound platform. I had already let several trains pass already. I am blessed with being stick thin, but there was no way I was going to asphyxiate myself on a tube train. Anyway, on the train before the one I caught, a man was standing with his head protruding beyond the doorway. He looked quite smug with his own contortionistic skills allowing him to bend his way onto the carriage. So he was looking sympathetically at the throngs of passengers still waiting on the platform. I looked at him just for something to look at. I smiled at him. He smiled at me and he continued staring. The doors began to close, and he was still staring. I thought he's bound to notice at any second and pull his head in. Unfortunately, that was not the case and his head ended up becoming the meat in a tube train door sandwich. As a direct result of this,  the doors reopened, the passengers on the platform gasped in shock and the glasses that adorned his face dropped off in the melee underneath the carriage. He therefore had to de-contort himself and alight from the train. When a member of Transport for London staff (or London Underground, whatever guise it was under at the time) arrived to assist by stepping down off the platform to retrieve the said glasses, he was treated to a right earful. The passenger was sporting a big black mark across his nose where the impact had occurred. He was threatening to sue London Transport for the incident. Of course it was their fault. He was trying to flirt with a passenger on the platform and was not paying attention!

 I was with a fellow lawyer, and we discussed the incident standing on the next train. I can distinctly remember saying to her:

'It was one of those moments in time that you could have altered. You foresaw what was going to happen, and could have taken a split-second decision to prevent the incident by forewarning the passenger that he was about to be caught by the doors. But it was also one of those intriguing moments where you stood by and kind of wanted to see what happened!'

Anyway, I've spent far too long on this blog and not enough time on my book. After all, you get this shit for free, but you have to pay for my book!!

Laters,

MJ xx

p.s. I'm thinking my blog is a bit pants. Any ideas on how I can improve it would be greatly welcomed. The blogger design menu seems so unwieldy!

The Author's Bureau

Happy Monday to y'all. (sorry, I am not giving you Bez!)

Managed to write five thousand (yes, five-thou-SAND) words by the sea, sitting on a dyke/ tide-breaker thing swinging my legs over the edge like a little child with Mabel on my lap typing away. I had a 'whale' of a time…. I'll post some images when my iPhone decides to synchronise with iCloud and iMabel…..

Two (well three) things I forgot to mention earlier:

1. I had a lovely, unexpected conversation with a distant friend (200 miles away) who confirmed that she had been reunited with her partner after he had been away for a considerable period of time, realised the spark was not there anymore for either of them and both ended it maturely. No drama. No accusations. Same hurt. But it was handled by both parties impeccably. It is a credit to them, and I hope they both move on with their lives enjoying the good memories and building more, either individually or in a new relationship. It also represents the very first time I have witnessed a 'conscious uncoupling'. I suppose this is what GP meant on her blog. I have had to be 'consciously uncoupled' from the snooker tonight. I love it when the World Championships at the Crucible reaches the business end. I'm backing Selby, but I'm sure my expressed prediction will ensure he now loses against Alan McManus in the next round. Kiss of death.

2. I realised I had not commented on yesterday's rugger. At least I was pretty spot on there. Wilko's masterful boot scored all 24 points for Toulon. So they will defend their title against Saracens at the Millennium Stadium. Got my ticket - can't wait! Will need to ensure I double my word count the day before.


3. And finally….. Good Morning Britain was resurrected like a phoenix today for the first time since 1992. Anne and Nick have had a make-over, and now inhabit the very toned bodies of Susanna Reid and Ben Shephard respectively. I have to confess that I avoid breakfast tv as if it was a contagious disease, but I did peruse the write-ups. Apparently we owe a great deal to our American brethren for the set style/ format/ primary colours of women etc. On another note, a teacher was stabbed to death in a school in Leeds. I do hope this is not a trend we adopt from America too.

A demain,

MJ xx

Monday Monday….

I have to confess a slight weakness for the Mamas & Papas. I loved Cass Elliott's voice, and so many of their numbers are timeless. 'California Dreamin', 'I Saw Her Again Last Night', 'Got A Feelin' and 'Words Of Love' are amongst my favourites, and I can regularly be seen busting shapes to them in my very appropriate underwear whilst waiting for the kettle to boil in the morning.

It's full steam ahead with Book 2 today. I am looking forward to finishing the series as I already have another idea for another book. It's a cracker, hopefully! Will disclose all at a suitable juncture. Need to focus on this project, as I'm a terrible procrastinator. I also need to research it just an ickle bit more before I decide finally on the topic.

I've just discovered that HRH Prince Charles, the Prince of Wales no less, has had one of my posters discarded from the most prominent spot I placed it on. Well, it probably wasn't him personally, but it was on his Duchy land, and the buck stops with him. Writing a very indignant missive after this blog update.

Second cafe au lait consumed. Back to the grindstone.

Laters from MJ xx

Blurred lines….

I know you wan' it! Oooh! I know you wan' it! Oooh!

Sorry, that's the only lines I know of that song! I sing it sometimes in the shower, doing the 'Oooh' bits really loudly whilst punching the air and shaking my booty! If only Robin Thicke knew what an impact he has made to my cleansing routine….

Anyway, I've realised that my last posting contains some very strange white lines that have pervaded the posting. I love the word 'pervaded'. However, I am digressing. It is supposed to detail my silly Amazon Author profile. However, having commented on the marvel of cross-pollenating fonts, I note that my cut n' paste jobby has resulted in nothing but these strange white lines. How very Dr. Who!

So, it is not possible to see it. And I cannot be arsed replicating it word for word here. So…. it's a jolly good excuse to plug the link if you want to see it…

Go see! It'll make your Sunday a Funday!

Now, Robin, you're newly single… aren't you?!

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Court-Contempt-Family-Division-McGhee-ebook/dp/B00JJ848V6/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1398588991&sr=8-1&keywords=mj+mcghee

Sunday with no sun is no fun….

Today is another action-packed writing day. I'm busy thinking up excuses for my poor grammar/ use of punctuation in the first and second books. The cat, flooding, boyfriend trouble, time of the month have all been considered and have been put in the mix. Any more valid excuses that can be provided will be gratefully received. The more pathetic and far-fetched, the better - applying the theory that 'it's so unbelievable it has to be true!'

You'll be delighted to know that I got absolutely soaked last night. This weather is appalling. Having said that, the background of grey seems to make the foliage and flowers seem even more vibrant. I managed to squeeze the dictation of my Amazon author's  profile into my very action-packed, allocated procrastination/ faffing around time. It goes something like this:



Former lawyer, marathon runner, tennis player, dreamer. Current writer, Thea Gilmore devotee, champagne drinker, green-fingered gardener, procrastinator, toe-curler, curry and fish n' chips devourer, rugby aficionado, Russian history buff, thigh admirer, eyebrow and bikini-line waxer (ouch!). No longer dreaming it but being it!

I can: touch-type, run in high heels, gaze out of windows for an inordinately long time, wash delicate clothing, iron men's shirts, drink beer whilst simultaneously eating curry, drive long distances, shout at my partner, get my bits stung by a jellyfish whilst swimming in the sea, flirt my way out of a speeding ticket, distract myself and others, be exceedingly nosey, keep secrets, play table tennis like a human possessed.

I cannot: sit in an open-plan office without being distracted, touch my nose with my tongue, drink Guinness, do the splits, travel in standard class carriages, work with strange people, be depressed, pole-dance, clean out kitty litter, wash someone else's dirty underwear, have a tattoo, stand politicians/ ignorant people/ homophobia/ airport security frisking, dry hair within 30 minutes, be early for anything.

Ooh how clever. When you cut and paste it from source, it retains the original font setting. I must ask them how they do that when I want to plagiarise my own work!

So, the second cafe au lait has been consumed and it's onto the cucumber-infused water and MacBook Air. Thinking I might call her 'Deirdre' in future posts. Or Mabel… that's it! Mabel the Mac!

I'm going to have to build in more rugger into my allocated procrastination/ faffing around time today. I was wrong about yesterday's match. What a blinder Saracens played yesterday in their 46-6 trouncing! I couldn't believe my eyes when I watched it on Sky+. They were all over Clermont Auvergne like Edward IV over Margaret of Anjou. I have to say that Brad Barritt looked tres Ming the Merciless sporting a goatee beard in his official Heineken Cup image. And poor Aurelien Rougerie, the ubiquitous capitaine, looked so crestfallen at the end. I wonder if such a heavy defeat will have an impact on the business end of the domestic Top 14. Allez Montpellier!

Bit concerned about this Ukraine thing too. Putin may be showing his true colours now. Thought we'd sorted this whole imperialistic land-grabbing thing out during the last century. That, amongst other things, culminated in World War I. I'd like to see a vociferous, organised opposition in Russia. I cannot countenance this recent decline into homophobic legislation. And didn't Putin want Volgograd to revert back to Stalingrad? Or have I got that wrong? See above re my rugby predictions - it's possible folks!

The observations of that dizzy bird from Blackpool on Twitter did make me chuckle: 'If barroco barner is our president, why is he getting involved in Russia'. I note she later claimed in The Daily Mail (a publication I only read when I accidentally click on a link, scream, then direct my cursor quickly to the 'back' button, and reach for the smelling salts before any further distress is caused) that is was a big typo. Ah well, the wonders of modern technology!

Au revoir - a bientôt!!

p.s. This afternoon's fixture in Marseille? A hard-fought victory for Toulon. They seem to have their tails up at the moment and Jonny Wilkinson, the talismanic fly-half, has recovered from his thigh strain/ fractured eyelash to lead his Varois team out.

Jill Dando

It's 15 years to the day since Jill Dando was murdered on her doorstep in Fulham, South West London, by a still-unknown assailant. I was in Bath that day, and I remember being told by my friend Anne Willmott, thinking she was pulling my leg. It was only when I watched the BBC Six o' Clock News that evening that the awful reality sunk in. Barry George was convicted of her murder then his conviction was overturned by the Court of Appeal. It's unlikely that anyone will be brought to justice for this crime now. Shame. Carry on resting in peace, Jill xx

Saturday Morning Update from Chez McGhee

And it's still plowing on with Book 2 as more sales come in, which is a good thing I suppose. It'll keep me in fags and booze and out of trouble. I can't work out the whole Amazon sales rankings thing. I've tried to apply the pie formula that I was taught by Mrs. MacKenzie in 1990 (3.14 blah blah blah), and failed miserably (funnily enough). I suppose I won't know until my sales figures are submitted to my publisher. Until then, I can dream of topping the best-sellers list without actually having to face the harsh reality…

More good news to announce is that the fabulous Hollie Hyde, artiste par excellence, will be treating you all to another raunchy cover for 'Court of Deception', after her stunning artwork graced the cover of 'Court of Contempt'. I'm sure many sales have been achieved purely down to her genius. I can tell you that a blueprint has been drawn up. The scales make a welcome return, but the Louboutin shoes do not. Will it be Darya, Brett, Lucy or Neal on the cover?

Anyway, I have to admit that I'm still toying with the idea of naming the second book 'Court of Protection'. The thought of my tome in law libraries and on judicial benches makes me chuckle. I'll get over it soon, promise.

Batten down the hatches today. It's a windy one. I've already seen a parasol that was left out after the unseasonably mild weather blowing around as if it has just dropped Mary Poppins and she has left it outside the nursery open and exposed to the elements.

Darya would be excited this afternoon as it's Heineken Cup semi-finals this weekend, even though neither match features her beloved Montpellier. Saracens v Clermont at Twickers is a tough one to call, but I reckon 'Les Jaunards' may just squeeze out an away victory (a rare event for a French team, although that is changing these days in a most competitive Top 14 domestic league). Tomorrow we have Toulon v Munster at the Stade Velodrome, Marseille. Are Toulon sans Jonny Wilkinson? That could be a decisive factor. I think Munster may be more powerful in the scrum, but watch out for Toulon's flying backs, and Steffon Armitage at open side flanker is having a champagne season. So I pick a 'tout francais finale' for the European Cup. Am I right?

See you on the other side of another mammoth writing session! Enjoy your Saturday. I've developed a taste for cucumber flavoured water. It clears your skin, and you can use the slices at the bottom of the glass to put on your tired, Mac-weary eyes. Result!

MJ xx

Friday Night Update from Chez McGhee…...

Yes, still at the MacBook Air, desperately trying to remain coherent after a couple of glasses of fine red wine. I don't know how on earth my characters Brett and Darya could get three sheets to the wind and rock up to Court on time in the morning. Well, Brett could!

My Americanised spelling check is getting on my bosom as it unilaterally changes 'woollen' to 'woolen', amongst other things. How do I change this on a reconstituted Mac?

Another lovely landmark was reached today as I received my 9th 5-star review on Amazon. In honour of this, I have included an appropriate link to this message that will take you back a few years. It is also fitting for the changeable weather we are experiencing at the moment. My tender perennials are very confused as to what season it is. Grateful for no repeat of last year's 'brass monkeys' winter that made everything so late, they are now wondering if their growth spurt in March and the early part of this month is now somewhat premature, as the lovely Louise Lear on the Beeb has informed us that we will be experiencing night frosts next week. Fabulous! Just when I had flung the electric blanket into the back of the airing cupboard when I changed the bed yesterday. Now I'll have to find a human to warm my bed. Or maybe now is the time to get a dog…?

I take no responsibility whatsoever for this link. Some may cringe. Others, like me, may even know the words and actually sing along whilst moving their hands, head and shoulders to the music. Shame on you. Shame on me! Rain or shine, we'll always be one in a million!!

Have a lovely weekend readers, and please do keep chivvying me on with your virtual pitchforks aimed at my behind!!!

MJ xx

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cOXjoLf-bLw

Carry on Up the Amazon…..

http://www.amazon.com/Court-Contempt-Family-Division-McGhee-ebook/dp/B00JJ848V6/ref=sr_1_47?ie=UTF8&qid=1398517073&sr=8-47&keywords=court+of+contempt


Worldwide/ American link for the readers across the Pond (i.e. Atlantic Ocean… and a bit of the Irish Sea)



http://www.amazon.com/Court-Contempt-Family-Division-McGhee-ebook/dp/B00JJ848V6/ref=sr_1_47?ie=UTF8&qid=1398517073&sr=8-47&keywords=court+of+contempt

Book Two Now Has A Name…...

Today we have a title for instalment two: 'Court of Contempt' will be joined by 'Court of Deception' shortly. It was a choice between that and 'Court of Protection', however the latter suggests that my book is actually a reference guide to the actual Court of Protection, and naive students/ law practitioners may buy it in their droves thinking they are getting the latest precedents and information on best practice and procedure (not to mention further 'Views from the President's Chamber'), and be bitterly disappointed with the actual content. They may then insist on refunds, which could seriously dent my royalty income. However, a prize (probably a hard hat) goes to the first legal practitioner who quotes a line from the book in the Court of Protection.

Also, there isn't much 'protecting' going on in the second book. Pretty much the opposite. A few things can be guaranteed, however. More heels stuck in drain covers and various other inconvenient places. Rugger matches where far too much excitement in the scrum causes spillages and knock-ons. Dennis and Davina will be entered into the Grand National, ridden by Daisy and Felix. Spot the Dog will know his way through Darya's Manolo collection. Oh, and there's sex. Lots of it. Far more than the first book. I let you in gently with the first one. Now you're just going to drown in it. Even I am having to rack my brains to think of new positions. I've decided that all characters shall henceforth be double or triple-jointed or made of rubber.

It's been an odd day here at McGhee Mansions too. Beautiful sunshine meant a yearning to procrastinate in my thriving spring garden. Clematis is shooting up the fence, and a really unusual perennial shrub that I picked up at the fabulous RHS Hampton Court show last year with red brush-like flowers emerging. I walked through a field with a dead pregnant sheep. 'Dead' in the literal sense unfortunately. And I nearly fell into a stream trying to prune a rampant buddleia. However, a visit from an old friend cheered up the household no end.

Good news re the sales rankings too. It appears my tome is growing a little fan base across the pond. For the last few nights there has been a little overnight surge in my standings. I could be wrong, but if Uncle Sam is reading about middle-class Hampshire, I want to take all the credit!

Back to the grindstone. Happy Friday readers. xx

An update on Book Two…..

Book 2 is well underway. It will be dedicated to Roger Craddock and Paul Pinder as they battle on against Roger's debilitating lymphoma. If Paul decides to publish his eloquent and emotive blog at some point, may I recommend it to you now. He publishes a nightly update on their day, covering both the highs and the significant lows. It makes all their friends feel as though they are accompanying them on the journey, albeit from a trawler that is guiding the cruise ship out of the harbour into the vast ocean. By doing this blog, they are giving their readers so much perspective on life.

Expect some pleasant (and some unpleasant) surprises for all the main characters. The imagination is very fertile at the moment with a combination of the spring, vibrant yellow fields of rape seed oil in view of my writing room and an unintentional bang on the head last night - and no, that is not a euphemism! Desperately trying not to be distracted by FB, Wii Fit and YouTube.

Thank you all for responding so enthusiastically regarding printed copies. I have exceeded my quota quite significantly, so will be ordering more. Rest assured, they will all be signed. Can I take this opportunity to thank the lovely Anne Shuker from Hereford who I met about 5 years ago whilst she was the now defunct FPC Court Clerk and I was a lowly LA lawyer. She has highlighted with her beady eyes a few minor errors in my ebook. Hence, when the printed copies are available, you should have a word perfect publication. The anal Anne (not in the Darya sense) has also offered to be a proof-reader for the next two books for nothing except cheap Sainsbury's cava! What a girl.

Happy reading xx

Courting Up the Amazon…..

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Court-Contempt-Family-Division-McGhee-ebook/dp/B00JJ848V6/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1398376671&sr=8-1&keywords=mj+mcghee

Nook This Book!!!

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/court-of-contempt-mj-mcghee/1119130713?ean=9781483521169

A-Scribd

http://www.scribd.com/doc/216471085/Court-of-Contempt?fb_action_ids=1459360644300333&fb_action_types=og.likes&fb_source=feed_opengraph&action_object_map=%7B%221459360644300333%22%3A703025703083743%7D&action_type_map=%7B%221459360644300333%22%3A%22og.likes%22%7D&action_ref_map=%5B%5D

For those readers with a Pomme….

Allez-y!

https://itunes.apple.com/gb/book/court-of-contempt/id855957316?mt=11

The link to Copia….

'Court of Contempt' at Copia…..


http://www.thecopia.com/catalog/details.html?catId=15856091

A Little Knowledge for you

The inspiration for the title is at 0:34…. Kick off your shoes, lie back, close your eyes and let Green Gartside's silky vocal chords make love to your ears….

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-IbRMjElVT8

A very important announcement…… COURT OF CONTEMPT….

Ok folks, I'm going to say this very quietly so only you can hear…. come closer… I said closer…. don't be shy…. let me see the inside of that shell-like…. right, ok…. here goes….


THE BOOK IS OUUUUUUUUTTTTTTT!!!!!!

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Court-Contempt-Family-Division-McGhee-ebook/dp/B00JJ848V6/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1398376192&sr=8-1&keywords=mj+mcghee


http://www.scribd.com/doc/216471085/Court-of-Contempt?fb_action_ids=1459360644300333&fb_action_types=og.likes&fb_source=feed_opengraph&action_object_map=%7B%221459360644300333%22%3A703025703083743%7D&action_type_map=%7B%221459360644300333%22%3A%22og.likes%22%7D&action_ref_map=%5B%5D


http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/court-of-contempt


http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/court-of-contempt-mj-mcghee/1119130713?ean=9781483521169


https://itunes.apple.com/gb/book/court-of-contempt/id855957316?mt=11

Rush out… (ok, don't do that)… stay in, and buy it from your platform of choice…. then rush out and tell your mates, their mates, their families, their extended families, compatriots, non-compatriots and Presidents!!

It would also be jolly nice to get some reviews and feedback after you have devoured it. Go on, take a train journey down to Hampshire and discover just how contemptible the world of the 'Court of Contempt' is…..

Happy Reading People xx

Morning (or good night if I am talking to my readers Stateside!)….. we have posters ready for the release of 'Court of Contempt', my very first novel, and the first part of the 'Family Division' series, following the travails of Brett Madigan, a high-flying divorce barrister in London, and Darya Ross, an easily-distracted child protection barrister. The two main protagonists both live in the county of Hampshire, and meet for the first time on a train journey home one late evening in November 2011. A large dollop of chemistry develops between them. At the outset we know Winchester-residing Brett wants to keep his marriage a secret from Brockenhurst-bound Darya. The reader quickly becomes a voyeur into their respective lives. Brett wants an affair to fill the void of a sexless marriage to Lucy, someone to step into the shoes of the mysterious 'Godiva', with whom he enjoyed a most passionate affair. Although ostensibly independent, Darya wants to fill a similar void after her long-term boyfriend Nathan suddenly left in 2009.

Brett has other things to worry about - namely the arrival of a dashing electrician to finish the brand new kitchen who catches the eye of his bored and unfulfilled wife Lucy. Darya, a shoe and rugby aficionado who is equally bored with her career, clashes with ghastly opponents, judiciary and a strange man in the New Forest. Brett is a welcome distraction from her own disillusionment, but will she find out his secret before it's too late?

The first book of the 'Family Division' series gives the reader a peek into the lives of two different barristers, practising in different sub-areas of family law, with very different pressures and outlooks. Not everything is at it seems…...