​Our travels this month took us one thousand kilometres (600+ miles) west of Adelaide, South Australia, to a place called Fowlers Bay. Let me start by saying there is nothing much there. A caravan park, a kiosk, white sand dunes, and a few houses. We were there to see the whales. During May to October, the Southern Right Whales arrive from Antarctica to give birth.

It took us a couple of days to get there. The roads are good, but we opted to break the drive and stay overnight at a small town called Wudinna—pronounced Woodna. Go figure!

Sitting idle has never been our thing, so we soon had our four days planned. Our first outing was to the Head of Bight, where the week before, sixteen females and calves were spotted, but we only saw two pairs on our visit. But it was enough to spark excitement for the pending whale watching boat trip we had organised in a few days as there was talk of lots of whales in Fowlers Bay.

When not searching out whales, we walked the white dunes to the open sea. It was a seven-kilometre (4 mile) walk, so we enjoyed burning energy. Nothing but Antarctica lies south of the beach, and as I watched the waves smashing onto the shore, a Bronze Whaler Shark chased a school of ocean salmon through the waves. Two anglers were pulling in some of those salmon with the help of two German wire-haired pointers. I am a sucker where dogs are concerned, and as I said hello to them, I thought about how my fur kids, Elsa and Kuura, would have loved swimming through the waves. We chatted to the dog’s owners, and they sent us away with a couple of just caught salmon, which we had for dinner that night.

However, the best was yet to come—the boat trip—and it did not disappoint. We got up close personal to nine mums and calves. Mums tend to stick close to the shore until their calves are strong enough to make the journey south. Calves weigh in at about one tonne when born and when adults can weigh eighty tonnes. We had a calf following the boat, and it is hard to think of them as babies. It was a fabulous experience watching the interaction between mums and calves.

Our Fowlers Bay stay ended, and we headed down the coast to Streaky Bay. While in Streaky, we visited a Smoky Bay oyster farm. By the time we headed home, my love of oysters was well satisfied, plus I had a wealth of material for future books.

In previous newsletters, I have talked about how travel gets the creative juices flowing. And this trip was no exception. We met some fascinating people: The whale charter guys, a group of youngsters fishing for squid from the Fowlers Bay jetty. A couple travelling Australia and a grumpy guy whose face would crack if he smiled. The Oyster farm owners, father, and son in Smoky Bay, were relaxed and fun. The father hitched up their boat to a tractor, sat us in the back and drove to the water where he launched it with us sitting, wondering who was going to steer. And the pleasant receptionist who looked after us at the Streaky Bay foreshore. These people are real and give a wealth of inspirations to bring a story to life.

So, while I have not been able to travel overseas, we have found plenty on offer in our backyard, which is a good thing. I hope that wherever you live, you have also been able to enjoy what is on offer.
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Until next time.
Suzie

During these strange times, with no overseas travel, we have been taking advantage by exploring our state of South Australia. We recently took a road trip to Port Lincoln on the southern tip of the Eyre Peninsula, 650 km (400 miles) due west of Adelaide. Located on Boston Bay (a bay three and a half times the size of Sydney Harbour!), it has Australia’s largest commercial fishing fleet and many exceptional restaurants of which we can vouch.

While in the area, we booked into the Coffin Bay oyster farm for the oyster experience. Yes, I’m particularly fond of oysters. Imagine our surprise, after donning waders, to be led into the water toward a saltwater pavilion where we sat up to our waist in the 15 C (60 F) degree water. Our two guides explained about oyster farming while showing us how to shuck oysters. We sampled half a dozen washing them down with a crisp white wine.

Did you know that oysters grow large? Fist size and larger and can live a long life. The guides introduced us to one of their large crustaceans called Steve. Lucky for Steve being part of the Coffin Bay experience and not the meal.

One of the things I love about travel, whether local or overseas, is how a different location can get the creative writing juices flowing. So don’t be surprised if a story set at an oyster farm hits the shelves at some stage.

July in Australia is our mid-Winter, a time where I hunker down into the warmth of my office, accompanied by our Bearded Collies, Elsa and Kuura.

Our first Bearded Collie came into our lives in the late 80s, and he was called Blue, a good Aussie name. In 1990 we moved to Hong Kong for work and were unable to take Blue with us, so we arranged for him to be flown to England to be with my family there, where he enjoyed an active life as a mascot for an American Civil War enactment group, strange to have one in England. Blue crossed the rainbow bridge before we returned to Australia.

Missing the breed so much, we were soon looking for another one, when we found Gromit, named after the dog in the 1990s TV series, Wallace and Gromit, much to the amusement of his breeders. Gromit started off with us as a suburban dog and then we moved to a rural setting in the Adelaide Hills. Gromit needed a friend, so we found him, Lola, a two-year-old girl, who had spent her time as a show dog. It was quite a change for her, from the showring to a relaxed rural lifestyle with Gromit.

When Gromit passed, Paddington, as in Paddington Bear from darkest Peru (where my husband was born), joined Lola, arriving in style, flying in from northern New South Wales.
With the passing of Lola and Paddington, we now have two females, Elsa and Kuura. Who have the same Finnish father. Elsa is a popular girls name in Scandinavia and Kuura means frost in Finnish.

Out of all the Bearded Collies that have come into our lives, Paddington was by far the most obstinate. As a puppy, we took him on an Outback adventure with us. He is probably the only Bearded Collie to have travelled through the remote South Australian outback sleeping with me in my swag. He had a huge personality, so much so that I wrote a series of stories about his life’s adventures.

Blue was an escape artist who always wanted to visit the neighbours. Gromit was a gentleman, and he would do anything you asked him. Lola was a spirited girl. Elsa, we call her Princes Elsa because she is, and Kuura is the youngest and is still a big kid.
Returning to the present. The dogs bring much joy into our lives. So, as I sit in my office, creating worlds and characters for my stories, you will often meet the odd dog. These worlds would not be complete otherwise.

June is the official start of winter here in Australia. In the Adelaide Hills, we have clear blue skies most days, with temperatures ranging between 5C (41F) and 15C (60F), with the potential of frost some mornings.

In my final book in the racing series, Racing Fate, we continue our adventure into the Australian Outback experiencing outback races and an encounter with Australia’s wild dog, the dingo. Dingoes in general avoid conflict with humans, however they are large enough to be dangerous.

My first experience of outback racing was at Marree, which lies some 600 kilometres (375 miles) north of Adelaide at the junction of the Oodnadatta and Birdsville Tracks. The racing, however, was unusual. Instead of horses, camels took to the track. I would have to say camel racing is quite crazy. From my observation, jockeys have little or no control over their mounts, and camels will or will not run, depending on how they feel at the time. Give me horses any day!

Along with Marree hosting camel racing, there are many outback racetracks, the most famous being the annual Birdsville races, followed by the Innamincka bush horse races.
Whether racing horses or camels, these events bring the Outback population together for a couple of days of fun and frivolity. You can only imagine some of the colourful characters you meet at these events.

I am familiar with the Innamincka area as we have spent many happy trips camping along the remote Cooper Creek. The township of Innimincka, if you can call it that, boasts a hotel, store, accommodation and 44 residents. It sits 820 kilometres (510 miles) northeast of Adelaide.

​As always, I am happy to respond to questions about my books and my writing.

The months are slipping by. One minute we are celebrating Christmas and now Easter, and if, like many South Australians, you like attending a picnic race meeting, then the Oakbank Racecourse in the Adelaide Hills, is the place to be.

Oakbank holds many memories for me and was the perfect place to start Racing Dream, the first book in my racing series. We meet Annabel Martin at sixteen. What sixteen-year-old does not have dreams? Annabel’s is to win the Melbourne Cup, Australia’s famous annual thoroughbred horse race, the dream of every Australian jockey.

Annabel rides well but has done her apprenticeship around the show ring. To realize her dream, she needs to adapt her riding style and learn race strategy. She also needs to prove to Andy Jones, a renowned jockey, that she has grit.

Andy’s first impression of Annabel is that she is a spoilt rich girl. He soon learns there is more to her than her father’s money. He puts Annabel through her paces at Oakbank on a cold misty winter morning. Oakbank in winter can be cold, with temperatures sometimes dropping to zero degrees Celsius.  So, riding trackwork at Oakbank is not for the faint-hearted. Andy’s excitement mounts as he realizes Annabel has what it takes to become a top-notch jockey. We also get a glimpse of James McKenzie at this time. He, too, has dreams and is quite taken when he meets the young Annabel. It’s a few more years before the two become further acquainted, and by then, they’re both chasing that Melbourne Cup dream. And so the scene is set for an adventure suspense story that will keep you reading.

It would be remiss of me not to give you a little history on Oakbank.  Racing started in 1876 and hosts one of the world’s largest picnic race meets, the Easter Racing Carnival, which has historically been held on Easter Saturday and Monday. Oakbank is the home of steeplechasing and jumping in South Australia, which combines with flat racing over the festival. The famous Great Eastern Steeplechase is the highlight of the weekends racing and, in its heyday, has attracted crowds as large as 70,000.

Once you have journeyed with Annabel and James, book two, Racing Time, travels to the Australian Outback.

The month of May means we are moving towards the end of the Southern Hemisphere Autumn, which turns out to be a good time for travelling through the Australian Outback, avoiding the extreme heat and dust of Summer.

The outback is another world which brings me to the setting of book two of my racing series - Racing Time.

Once you leave the southern towns behind, the journey north is on unsealed roads. At the outback town of Marree, the road divides. Turn right and you join the Birdsville track taking you northeast to Birdsville or turn left onto the Oodnadatta track northwest to Oodnadatta.

Oodnadatta is a small remote outback town, with a population of around 200, some 870 kilometres (540 miles) north of Adelaide. The town is also home of famed The Pink Roadhouse. The word Oodnadatta is derived from the Aboriginal word utnadata, meaning mulga tree blossom.

So why did I choose Oodnadatta? Firstly, it's remote. Things go wrong for the unprepared in the outback. I like testing my hero and heroines. There is a lot to learn about survival, it can bring people together or tear them apart. There is no mobile reception. No nearby towns. Few passing vehicles. Cattle stations covering many hundreds of square miles, and you could wander through them for days without seeing a soul. People do not last long on foot with no water in the hot and dry conditions.

Secondly, it is a great place to bury a body. Who is going to find it apart from Dingoes? If you fall foul of someone, there is no local police to rescue you. No local hospital to aim for.

Thirdly, after placing my characters in this environment, testing their strength and endurance they naturally learn to grow, learn to trust and in turn learn to love. Without these basic elements, life has no meaning. So, if you enjoyed Racing Dream, be sure to read Racing Time and journey into the South Australian outback.