I don't feel interesting enough to have a biography online. But, if it will help anyone decide whether or not my books are worth taking a look at . . . Firstly, to get it out of the way: I'm middle-aged, which means I'm old enough to have grandchildren. I live in a beautiful part of Scotland, not quite "The Borders", but we have the same rolling hills, and at the time of writing we've been under the same snow for about three weeks. In the last two days the melt has begun; our icicles have gone, and everything is drip-drip-dripping, though I have no idea where all the water is going to go to. The reservoirs will fill up and teem with fish, and then the fishers - human and avian - will come along for the pickings. My life, up to now, has been shared with animals of all sorts and sizes, but now I am owned by two cats. They both help me to type, though they are asleep as I write this, full of supper, dreaming of things that make them smile and chirrup in their sleep. I won't disturb them.