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Unforeseen delay




A little over a week ago, my father, Maurice Joseph O'Sullivan, went into hospital having suffered a stroke. This isn't the first time and he recovered fully, so we had high hopes. Unfortunately while in hospital he suffered another stroke, this one profound. He didn't regain consciousness to any degree and he finally slipped away this morning.

Of course this has knocked me and my family for six.

Because of this, I'm delaying the publication of The Runaway's Escape to December and The Crime Lord's Fall to February. I'm sorry for the delay, but I'm sure you all understand.

I won't be sending out any more newsletters for the month and will be restricting my time on The Author's Renegades group to concentrate on family.

The blog reveal for the new covers went up a little while ago and I still plan to add them to other stores at some point, but it will probably be towards the end of the month, unless my brain needs something to do.


As a child, I was brought up in Ireland. That country is rich with mythology and stories of leprechauns, Banshee and ancient gods. My father would tell me fairy stories and, being a catholic country, bible stories which my father would read to my little sister and I when we were tucked up in bed.

I fell in love with stories listening to my dad read them to me. Sometimes, during the day, he would take us on long walks down country lanes picking flowers with him while he told us tales about Fionn Mc Cumhaill (Finn Mac Cool) and the Salmon of Knowledge. I fell in love with Bluebells, Foxgloves and Dog Daisies on those walks and loved finding tadpoles in the ditches by the side of the road or taking long walks through the fields with my dog Prince by my side, making up stories in my head.


I became a storyteller in large part thanks to my dad.

He was a spry and spirited old man, who usually had a smile on his face. He turned 80 yesterday, and was only sick for the last week of his life, so he lived a good long life. In the picture above, my dad is around 10 years old; the dog was called Rookie. Thanks to the family trait of blonde hair and blue eyes, with pale skin, he was called 'Mossy ban' by the other villagers, ban (pronounced bawn, like yawn) means white or fair.


I'm not sure how to finish this, except to thank you for reading and I'll be back soon.


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