eve cover art best quality art suchet feather-2



Shirley Blamey & Mike Steeden

“Clouds above, what is this bloke on? He only introduced a new book a week or so ago…now another? Is the man off his head?”

Probably I am, however in my defence this one is more than a tad different from its forebearer. Firstly, a poles apart genre; secondly, it is co-authored with Shirley Blamey. It’s name is ‘Whatever Happened To Eve?’

Eighteen months previous I commenced collecting ever willing words for this story. A third of the book complete, the new words arriving were a motley crew who took it upon themselves to mutiny. Plainly, I was left with little choice but to have them walk the plank.

Then a stroke of good fortune. It was in September last year, having suffered a freakish eye injury some months previous that had slowed my progress down to a snail’s pace when coaxing words, that Shirl and I took a short break in France and it was there a story imagined over cold bière blonde in a clandestine darkest corner of a once voguish bar in ‘Paris par la mer’ took on a new shape.

Twixt the pair of us, in concert we found ourselves acting and reacting to the seductive pulse of mutual, sometimes deliciously wicked, thoughts. No ‘what if’s’, ‘but’s’ or ‘maybe’s’ when a dark fantasy drops out the night sky for it must, for rationalities’ sake, be put to the written word before it is lost forever to the merciless ether. An excited cluster of fresh, avant-garde words agreed. We were on a roll.

I have to say, come breakfast’s sobriety, I questioned Shirl on a number of potentially controversial topics and storylines we had come up with that night in France. “Can we really get away with that? Seriously?” I asked. “Molly Parkin got away with it time and time again. Why not?,” her pokerfaced riposte. Soon after wily ‘words’ found they had two craniums to take up residence in. I tend to think mine was just their holiday home.

Some 130,000 or so words later completion of our decidedly immodest tale, ‘Whatever Happened To Eve?’ was accomplished.

What is it all about then? Herewith, the blurb;


No writer can help what he or she writes. Whether they be scandalous or sweet, dull or bright, words arrive as and when the fancy takes and evolve into whatever fable suits. With that in mind this collective of untamed words, of their own volition, chose not to be pitched at the easily offended or fainthearted, instead they opted for a captivating darkness. 


Can our dreams take us to another reality? 

Eve, the self-same Eve evicted from the metaphor that is Eden, finds herself marooned in a prudish England. Naked and lost she commits murder. Deemed bonkers, she is installed in a high-security psychiatric hospital for an indeterminate term where she is placed under the direct care of a black psychiatrist, Adamu who just happens to be the Adamu who was her fig leaf flame in paradise. 

Sadly, earthly Adamu has no recollection whatsoever of Eve for he is in deep denial, refusing to accept the existence of any Shangri-La or alternative dimensions. 

Leaving her flesh and bone in situ behind bars Eve takes every opportunity to journey to the very real ‘Land of Nod’…a decadent, Bohemian realm where anything is ‘probable’. 

Does Eve revive her love affair with Adamu on Earth, in Nod or both? Can Eve play her part in the aftermath of a destructive civil war in Nod? Does Eve have a ‘get out of the asylum free’ card? Only time will tell. 

Eve’s unique tale encompassing her leaving Eden behind; true love; ‘off the wall’ sexual encounters; war; peace; racial prejudices; slavery; a male harem; politics and philosophy pulls no punches. Quite the reverse.

The book is available across Amazon in both paperback and Kindle and specificaly at AMAZON US & AMAZON UK

eve back cover 2

41 thoughts on “‘WHATEVER HAPPENED TO EVE?’

    1. Cheers, Ms S. ‘Twas Shirl who saved the day last autumn when with a third of the book done I hit a brick wall. Nothing quite like the two of us getting legless in Le Touquet where my mad wife never stopped chucking ideas about and wouldn’t let go until the job was done. A formidable woman!

    1. My thanks, young Mia. For my part I have a mind that wanders and on many an occasion gets lost to the world and thoroughly confused. Not so the mind of my dear wife who made our ‘unusual’…at best…book happen. She is blessed with a determined mind that does as it pleases when it pleases and never favours boundaries or, for the matter take prisoners. Changing the subject, I’ve not spotted you of late since I’ve returned to this place. Are you still collecting gourmet words?

      1. You’re most welcome, and you sound most blessed to have the perfect writing partner and wife. Quite recently I may have found my voice again, although there is some speculation and debate about that, stay tuned for more to come (laughing). Please enjoy the rest of your week, hopefully you’re having some nice weather.

    1. My oh so witty son tells me that by way of taking the p**s out my posh speak ‘thank you’ to other bloggers he is on a mission to satirize me, no less! I understand from what he said he’s started with you and one or two already. Rest assured I shall get him back. Regardless, my thanks for the ‘tweet’. How the devil are you, by the way?

      1. Well, your son did call me “old chap” but I assumed that is what you all call each other. Besides, I am an old chap. Nevertheless, all is well with me. I plan on starting a guerrilla campaign of placing “Learn Life Learn Trefology” stickers all about Hollywood and see if anybody bites. It’s now or never, the way I figur’ it. That said, good to see you are back and writing, old top. I missed seeing you about.

      2. He’s ‘old chapping’ me all over the place lately. I’m thinking it’s time to go back to my South London roots and talk, ‘proper like’! ‘Learn Life Learn Trefology’ merchandise. Given a tail wind and a dose of good fortune there’s a business waiting to happen there. From underwear to bobble hats ‘Treology’ might just have the legs to charm nutters worldwide. Best regards, Old Chum

    1. It’s a wonderful thing that over a few cold beers in France she ensured I rediscovered the will to write again by simply writing with me and advising which direction we should turn when hitting the crossroads without signposts. Over the years I’ve told her to write. She is blessed with a punchy audacity when it comes to words. Maybe now she’ll see she is better than me.

      1. You’re both of great talent–it simply glows a different color. 🙂
        Bo’s a wonderful writer, too, but stories aren’t his thing. He knows how to spin wit with words waaaaaaaaaaaaaaay better than I. Growing up on the Marx Brothers will do that to you! 🙂

  1. Congratulations. Sounds interesting, and your account of how you carried this through should make all of us take note. Good luck.

    1. My thanks. My worry, I recall, was that we had put the ‘X’ in ‘X’ rated. As you rightly say, ‘who cares’ when writing this book proved to be a great, dark pleasure!

    1. How incredibly kind of you. My thanks from the heart. Best wishes, Mike Steeden. PS Rest assured I shall make mention of this to my co-author, dear Shirley.

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