Thursday, 9 February 2017

NEW FOR 2017

My third novel will be published with my new publisher in 2017 - a chilling suspense to keep you guessing.

I'm currently working on my 4th book.

Thursday, 22 December 2016

Christmas Magic - Magazine Short Story

This is my one-page short story in the Festive editions of the Littleborough & Shaw Magazines. I hope you enjoy one of my treasured memories.

Christmas Magic
When I was a child I didn't go to see Santa at a store, he came to me. It was always a week before Christmas and I’d stand patiently at my front gate and wait for him to appear. It didn’t matter if it was raining or cold. When it was nearly eight o'clock I heard music in the distance. It drifted on the night air and I’d raise my head to stare at the stars. It was only then I began to feel the magic of Christmas. He was on his way. Music and the ringing of bells grew louder as a brightly-lit horse and cart travelled along nearby streets. Then, I heard Santa’s voice ring out too: ‘Ho, Ho, Ho!’
His horse wore antlers and his cart was decked out as a sleigh but I never once questioned it. His reindeer was a magical creature and there was no need for explanations. I saw what I wanted to. Santa was bigger than life, bigger than anything and when we made eye contact it was as though he knew exactly who I was and where I lived. I reached up to catch sweets he scattered from his sleigh and then felt the magic still long after he’d disappeared around the end of our street.
For the next few days, whenever I passed a shop grotto, I’d feel sorry for squirming kids in a long queue then wonder why they screamed so when faced with Santa’s knee. One year my aunty took me to see Santa too. I stared hard at him. It wasn’t the same. When my aunt asked me why I was so serious I told her: ‘I can’t feel the magic. That’s not my Santa.’
I can’t remember how old I was when one year I decided not to go outside even though I could hear music and bells. The bubble had burst when I'd overheard the postman talking to a neighbour.  My Santa was just some local guy who liked to do the rounds for the kids but I soon regretted not going outside to see him. I felt grown-up and abandoned. When I peaked around the curtain I caught a glimpse of the back of his red gown as his cart turned the corner of our street. A big part of my childhood went with him.
I'd forgotten about my Santa until recently but I can still vividly recall that sense of magic he'd left behind. I realized that although that part of my childhood had gone the magic hadn’t gone with it. Back then it was a moment of simple naivety, a suspension of reality. Being out in the open night air and waiting for the magic to fill me with warmth and hope was part of the excitement.
So…if you find yourself sat at a dining table surrounded by people, perched on the end of a settee and smiling wryly at bickering relatives or sat alone in a chair with a tray and a TV remote, think back to when you still had your personal piece of magic. Think back to when anything was possible. Did you let go of it completely? Was it smothered by worldly things? Is it waiting for you to rekindle it or have you seen a glimpse of it in your child’s eyes? Don’t blink! You may miss it. My Santa was real, a man with a huge heart. When I think of him now I know he must have held on to his piece of magic and allowed it to grow so that he could share it with others. That’s the true meaning of Christmas. Magic is a feeling.

Friday, 28 October 2016

Happy Halloween - The Wishing Tree

Halloween short story in the October edition of The Littleborough Magazine and Shaw & Crompton Magazine.

The Wishing Tree by Denise Greenwood

The Wishing Tree by Denise Greenwood.
Photo taken at Towneley Hall Gardens, Burnley

Deep in White Star woods grows a magnificent tree. It grows out of a well that lost its source of water after a sudden shift of strata below. The trees bark is as red as blood and its branches filled with leaves as white as snow. A young girl lies outstretched beneath. Her eyes are closed and she’s smiling, cool and relaxed. The only sound is a slight rustle when she moves among a thick layer of white star flowers and leaves and when she does a wonderful perfume is released.
‘Why are you here?’ A whisper, barely audible, drifts downwards. The girl sits up and looks around with startled eyes. The whisper sounds again: ‘Tell me.’
‘I’m hiding.’ The girl can’t fathom where the voice is coming from. She shrugs but narrows her eyes to scan every branch of the tree above then they widen with astonishment. Just above her, within red bark, is a face. Although immediately terrified she can’t look away. Its deep hollowed eyes have a pinpoint of light.
‘Are you hiding too?’
Then the face laughs, its lips widen to reveal bright magenta. The voice within the laugh is no longer a thin whisper but deep echoes of sound. ‘You found me,’ the whisper returns but stronger. The face loses its smile.
‘Who are you?’ The girl is both frightened but intrigued.
‘I’m the wishing tree,’ the face replies and the girl’s eyes shine with wonder. ‘Can you grant me a wish?’
‘Yes, just one but, you must promise to do something for me in return.’ The girl nods eagerly, her eyes shin brightly. ‘You must return to me every year on this day and bring me one cup of blood. It must be human.’
‘What would I do with it?’
‘Pour it into the well around me.’
The girl thought about it for a moment.
‘I can’t do that. I’d spill a lot before I got here, see!’ She pointed to a steep rocky path down to the tree.
The tree groaned and the girl noticed that the perfume around her became too sickly-sweet. She gagged. There was foulness beneath the soft carpet she lay on. Long ropes of tree root sprang out and enveloped her. She screamed but the tree smiled again, wider and more sinister.
‘Then if I can’t have the blood I must have some of yours!’
The girl struggled, tears sprang from her eyes but as soon as one touched a root it shrank back. The more the roots tried to tighten the harder the girl cried until all but one root remained. It was tied around her shoulders. The root lifted her closer to the face. It was twisted with anger. The girl became calm and the face scowled.
‘You haven’t granted me a wish.’ Her voice was calm too.
‘What is it?’
As the tree hissed its question tiny splinters spewed out and cut the girl’s face. She didn’t flinch but the tree’s eyes widened. Its inner flicker of light grew. Then, out of its gaping mouth came a tendril of delicate new branch with a single leaf at its end. It stopped short of touching blood oozing from the girl’s cheek.
‘I wish,’ the girl’s voice faltered then she took a large breath despite the reek of decay and death around her. ‘I wish your sap was made...’ her tiny voice rose to a crescendo. 'From my tears!’
The tree’s face gaped with surprise then rage but it was too late. The root rope around the girl lost its hold and the girl fell into the carpet of leaves and flowers. She felt a tremor beneath before a deep rumbling shook her. She ran back to the rocky path and climbed as fast as her legs could carry her. At the top she turned to look down at the top of the tree. Its canopy of white flowers and leaves had once been so beckoning, the crimson of the bark like red velvet below. The flowers and leaves had withered, now brown and crispy. She gasped.
Slowly the tree sank into the well. Its leaves turned to water, salt water, the same as the girl’s tears and as the tree dissolved the well began to fill. The ground shook as the well overfilled. Water spilled out across the ground until a pool gathered then out of it stepped children. One-by-one they climbed the path towards the girl, smiling as they did so but as soon as they reached her they faded, their souls finally released.
The girl never shed a tear again and she never tried to hide from anyone or anything.

Happy Halloween!

Tuesday, 25 October 2016

Littleborough Coach House - Meet the Author, Denise Greenwood

I spent last Saturday at the Coach House Littleborough as part of the local Arts Festival. I was there from 10am until 4pm but it seemed to fly by. I was in very good company as there was an Arts & Crafts fair around me and I got to meet some talented and dedicated people.

Denise Greenwood at the Coach House, Littleborough

Denise Greenwood with Tabatha Mellor

I was able to showcase my books and it was my pleasure to sign quite a few for people who came to the event. My thanks goes out especially to the people who travelled in specifically to see me and to the organisers of the event.
One lady had read all of my books and so I couldn't resist a selfie with her. Tabatha Mellor made my day.

What impressed me most about the day was that the people around me were almost like a community of old friends. Artists, demonstrators of book-binding and calligraphy, lace-making, hand-blown glass, woodwork...the list goes on. They made me feel really at home.
Sean Holsgrove, Artist

Sean Holsgrove, Artist, was great company and he had the table behind me. A talented and down-to-earth guy who is also a teacher. Where I live artists mostly dedicate their work to landscapes as the local scenery is breath-taking but it was great to see an artist with a more expanded repertoire. His art would appeal to all ages and it had an earthy, almost magical aura.

Book-binding & calligraphy at the Coach House, Littleborough
A dying art - lace-making
This lady's fingers on the right were busy all day as she demonstrated a dying art - lace-making. She told me that she was trying to attract people to her new evening class at St Mary's Centre, Littleborough (Weds 7-9pm) and she provides everything needed. But what I didn't realise was that these classes are also therapeutic. People talk about their week, their problems and have the chance to learn a skill that will help to calm the mind.

Artist and teacher at Hopwood Hall, Rochdale

Another inspirational lady on the left - an artist and teacher at Hopwood Hall College, Rochdale.

I also had the pleasure of seeing art made from old books. Who could have asked for a more perfect way to spend their Saturday?

Art created from an old book
Art created from an old book

Tuesday, 11 October 2016


Busy preparing for the Littleborough Arts Festival and the mock-up of my table is looking good. I'll be at Littleborough Coach House on Saturday, 22nd October from 10am until 4pm.
If you are in the area then call in. I'll be upstairs in the centre of the main room.
I've also had an invite to talk to the local Townswomen Guild next April.
Meet the author Denise Greenwood at Littleborough Coach House Saturday 22nd Oct, 2016
Littleborough Arts Fesitval October 2016 - Meet Denise Greenwood on the 22nd
While I prepare this is the view from my home in Littleborough. I'm glad not to be in fine rain but it looks so beautiful with sunshine trying to break through it. This is one of my favourite times of the year.
Littleborough as seen on an Autumn day from my home

Thursday, 18 August 2016

Summer Price Drop Offer

There will be a special Amazon Kindle price drop promotion on the books Temptation and sequel Star Keeper commencing Monday 22nd August for SEVEN DAYS ONLY.
During this period readers will be able to purchase Kindle books for 99 pence (or equivalent in US and European currency).
I look forward to reading your reviews.