Home

Coastal Journeys

Explore Britain’s coastline and beyond.

Folklore

Discover the superstitions, tales and other oddities of the British coast.

Fantasy Writing

Step into my upcoming coastal fantasy novel.

Latest blog posts

Strange Traditions – The Sussex Bonfire Societies

‘We Burn For Good’: the motto of the Sussex Bonfire Societies.
Born out of a fervent Protestant and anti-Catholic tradition in the area, these Bonfire Societies are a window into our country’s past. Behind the carnivals they present today, you can glimpse riots, religious hatred, and a lot of people being burnt at the stake…

Selkies – The Forgotten Seal-Men

In parts of the world where the selkie myth persists, there is a grave taboo around killing a seal.
Some believed selkies to be the cursed children of kings, witches who lost control of their own power, or the fate of those drowned at sea.
Whilst we often gender selkies as female, the selkies of old were mainly depicted as men…

The Ankou – the most terrifying figure in Celtic folklore?

Before the Grim Reaper, there was the Ankou…

It is said that every graveyard in Brittany has its own Ankou. Not long ago, he was someone they knew. He was the last soul to die in the village that year. Doomed to dwell on this Earth a year longer, serving the graveyard as its guardian and collector of souls.

Prologue: the sea, a ceremony, a monster

It begins at the end. A young girl performs a strange ritual on the beach at night. Something evil stirs in the sea. Everything has aligned to bring her to this moment, her calling, her destiny.

The prologue to my upcoming novel is also its ending. The rest of the story tracks the forces which brought Morvern to this moment.

‘And Tenar listened to the sea, a few yards below the cave mouth, crashing and sucking and booming on the rocks, and the thunder of it down the beach eastward for miles. Over and over and over it made the same sounds, yet never quite the same. It never rested. On all the shores of all the lands in all the world, it heaved itself in these unresting waves, and never ceased, and never was still. The desert, the mountains: they stood still. They did not cry out forever in a great, dull voice. The sea spoke forever, but its language was foreign to her. She did not understand.’

URsula K. Le guin, the tombs of atuan