The Evidence Against You ~ Gillian McAllister ~ #Legal Thrillers (Kindle Store)

The Evidence Against You: The gripping new psychological thriller from the Sunday Times bestseller Kindle Edition

Can you trust your father, when they say he killed your mother?

17 years after being convicted of murder, Izzy’s father is finally released from prison.

She wants nothing to do with him – but he claims to be innocent.

She’s always believed he killed her mother, but now doubts are creeping in.

Because if he’s telling the truth, then someone else has been lying all this time . . .

Review for The Evidence Against you

When Izzy was a child, someone killed her mother.

The finger of suspicion pointed to her father, something she never quite believed. I think it must be almost impossible to consider something like this, even when the evidence is overwhelming.

The Evidence Against You is the harrowing story of Izzy’s journey to the truth.

Against all the opposition and her own misgivings, she stubbornly holds on to the hope that the proof will be found to change the verdict. For if her father didn’t kill her mother, someone had gone to a lot of trouble to make sure he went to prison.

Of course, it must be perfectly normal for a daughter to feel like this, so why would someone want to scare her into believing the worst?

While reading this engrossing story, I instinctively went with Izzy, believing her father was innocent.

Was I wrong?

#MLMM ~ Photo Challenge 369 ~ #Poetry

Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie

Photo by Francesco Ungaro on

I had fallen into a strange rabbit hole
It is dark blue and very wet, fish surround me
Someone has plunged a staircase into the water
It is rusty, making the water around it look pink
Inviting me to step on, come on up
Should I, shouldn’t I, bang around in my head
What is up there?
Is it safe, should I turn back the way I came?
I was swimming with friends, they should be somewhere
I am too close to the stairs; I touch the bottom tread.
I hear the muffled sound of voices
“I wonder where she has gone
One minute she was behind us,
the next gone like a puff of smoke.
Are they talking about me?
Forgetting, I am under water, I shout “I’m here.”
The water would not let me ascend the stairs
I could see my skin changing colour
I am turning a beautiful shade of blue
Not scales exactly. I no longer need my oxygen mask
I open my eyes on the beach
“She’s back!” Jack’s voice
“Massive bump on her head, but she’s back!”
Part of me felt sad, for I was looking forward
to being a mermaid…

© Anita Dawes 2021

Anita Speaks… Interview with a Legend

Interview with a legend: Part two

‘I was thinking about you. The sun will be up in a minute or two. You won’t be in shadow; you could come and sit down.’

Merlin sat; I could tell he felt weary. I let silence cover us for a while, let him catch his breath. I was wondering the whole time what he had been doing.

I had a dozen or so questions needing answers; some passed to me by others. ‘The Once and Future King, when will you wake him?’

‘Before you think your next question, just let me say, not all chivalry is lost. Over the past year, I have seen much of it on display. As to the sleeping one, I shall let him sleep a while longer. I have much to learn myself of this new world. We cannot change the past, no matter how far back we go. Nor can we change the religion that overlays our lands. There is much to learn from each branch.’

I felt glad to hear Merlin say it that way, as I cannot stick to one branch of religion. I like so much of each. I believe it matters not, what Gods we believe in, whether they are real or imagined. What you believe is true for you. If it works, don’t break it. The day may come when you look for more and need to know the real from the imagined. Not just the things you read, written so long ago by someone’s mind, pushing the pen. You may want to make your own religion, walk to the beat of your own drum.

‘Have a care, let go of history for a while. Make your own. The seed has been planted, Arthur sleeps, maybe for a long while. He learns the new way of things; the new battles he would face should I wake him. No more Romans, now you have the internet with its input to contend with. Roman cruelty, it seems, has taken on a new face. I tire; I will see you again soon.’

The air in my room felt heavy. Merlin seems lost in our world. I hope he has enough magic for himself to continue.

I spent the next few weeks wondering about imagination. How useful is it? The legend of Merlin came about when he was most needed, as did Christ. I hoped Merlin was far enough away, not to hear my thoughts. I didn’t want him to think I wondered if he were no more than smoke and mirrors. For me, Merlin is as real as the air I breathe. That’s my heart talking.

Now I am wondering what Merlin will come back with…

Tomorrows anger fuels the fire… #Poetry

stormy night, seen through rainy window
Image by

Outside myself I stand
Under pressure to remain
Reel me back in, hold me
After each lifetime
Great voices call
Evening cloaks the mind
Of outrageous thoughts
Until the voices call, renewed
Standing tall, ready to defend
False accusation from the unseen
Over to you, you scream
Rage burning, tongue held tight
Tomorrows anger fuels the fire
Under dark skies, storm brewed
Never put you hand up, never volunteer
Ending your torment by letting go…

© Anita Dawes 2021

Broken by Fury…

She walked through the night
An angel on fire
Embers flying, scorching the earth behind her,
Searching for one whose promise broke her heart.
He fled the great war
when Heaven dipped below the horizon
Fury burns away her tears,
Her reasoning mind broken
Trapped in our world, she walks in shadows
Trying not to be seen, her wings
Eaten away by her anger
She is lost, searching for something that cannot be.
Her life broken by fury
Heaven cannot call her back
Angels need our prayers…

© Anita Dawes 2021

The Listener…

Image by Pexels from Pixabay

I answered a phone call
I stood hearing words I should not
The voice spoke with a mouthful of gravel,
Scraping against my eardrums
It’s done, they’re both dead.
I felt as though I had been dropped into a vat of starch.
My body stiffened; my hand glued to the receiver
I now knew the location of the buried bodies,
Not far from where I stood
Whoever it was on the other end, hung up.
I was left listening to the buzzing sound of angry bees.
Words cannot describe the fear running through my veins…

© Anita Dawes 2021