Naughty or Nice?

In which Angel, concerned as to her status on the festive "naughty/nice" list, 
seeks clarification from a certain Canine Philanthropist at the North Pole.

Naughty or Nice?
Naughty or Nice?

Miss Angel Nash

Penthouse Apartment

Manhattan N.Y. 10021

December 2014

Dear Santa Paws,

I think I have been the embodiment of Paw-fection but Grannie says I have been a total Diva dog all year, and this may well affect my status on your naughty/nice list. I think Grannie may well be deluded due to a predilection for her favoured botanical, Juniper berries…but just in case…please would you take into account the following mitigating circumstances:-

Erm, yes I did cause just a teensie weensie bit of mischief and mayhem. And, yes, it was both sides of the Atlantic.Yes I know I did incarcerate Grannie in the basement laundry room of our building with just a battered typewriter for company, it was purely so she could finish my manuscript and she did escape…to Cabo…selfishly without Moi…until I got on board my Lear Jet and tracked her down on the beach sipping of all things, Manhattan’s…Grrr…

Hmm, and yes there were one or two or maybe more innocent little dalliances with some very hot dogs. Technically, I may have been a teensie weensie bit naughty when I did have a true love back in England, but those other boys really were rather nice and my playdates in Central Park could be forgiven, couldn’t they? Especially as my now ex ‘true love’ has most unreasonably dumped me and done a runner to the Outer Hebrides with a mutt called Morag.

You will be very pleased with Moi, Santa Paws, I have been nursing my broken heart with a touch of recycling, that would put me on the nice list, wouldn’t it? My brand new, reused, true love is the Hollywood Hottie I had an ahem…friends with benefits thing with last summer in the Hampton’s, Mason the Mastiff.

You, and everyone else on the planet, can see just how good I have been, Santa Paws, just as soon as Grannie finishes the final edit of my delicious slice of chick-lit “Angel Cake”. She should have done it by now, but she hasn’t. I know it is a dire dereliction of duty, but she has been resting…a lot…I assume because of her advanced age and gin consumption. Sigh, it is to be expected :(

I am sure you will agree Dear Mr Paws, Grannie should claim her rightful place on the naughty list not Moi, shouldn’t she? I am glad we have sorted that little matter out :)

So please would it be OK if I had one or two doggy treats for Christmas? You can see I have been having a very tough time and deserve a few festive baubles!

I have attached my list on my Pinterest Paws page, from which Dear Santa, you will note I like the little trinkets from Tiffany’s. All of them will do nicely. Oh and if you are bringing breakfast, they don’t actually do it at Tiffany’s but they do a rather nice nosh up at he Ritz in London. Please be a sweetie and stop by and get me a take away before you make your way across the Atlantic to the upper East Side. Please bring me a couple of Grilled Kippers, Full English Breakfast, I’ll have the Cumberland sausages and the black pudding as well as the eggs, streaky bacon, tomatoes (lightly grilled), mushrooms and toast with golden butter and bitter marmalade. Oh, Er and Croissants, with jam. I’d like Freshly squeezed Valencia orange juice, a big pot of Twinings English Breakfast tea, with cream and two silver spoons of demerara sugar and a bowl of fruit please. I don’t want to be too full before lunch ;)

I don’t have a chimney in my 53rd floor Manhattan Penthouse. I do have a helipad on the roof. If this is not convenient, can you please use my private elevator? If you and the reindeer can’t fit, just pop the goodies inside and James my Butler can buttle up my pressies and leave them in my pink stocking on your behalf. Maybe just cut down on the mince pies next year? … Just sayin’ …

In anticipation and yummy appreciation!

Yours gratefully,



Telling Tails

Author Angel Nash worn to the Paws watching Grannie hard at work!

Hello my Lovelies!

I am visiting Grannie’s blog from my own at Wooflicious Words, putting my well manicured paws to good use and blogging for her, whilst she is otherwise engaged and not watching what I am up to.  I am more than miffed she has been selfishly blogging about her books and  not my books, can you believe her cheek!!!

‘Where is Grannie? What is she doing? Shame on her! What on earth could be more important than looking after you, Angel?’ You may solicitously enquire, and I shall tell you, my Lovelies.

But, Shh…it is a secret!

Grannie is busy with a matter of the  most mega urgency and import. Can you hear her click clacking away on her battered old typewriter?  I have banned her from blogging and anything else (like sleeping and eating) that does not involve her catering to my little “want, need, nows!” until she finishes the manuscript for my third book- Look out for the big reveal!!! She should be finished before Christmas…

I am soooo excited about my latest book, just as much as when my paws were on creative fire and I penned my very first  Magnum Opus and introduced myself to an unsuspecting world in:-

 “Telling Tails” 

Beautiliious Westie Angel Nash has aspirations of the good life. When Grannie upsets the little Diva dog she takes matters into her own paws and becomes the first canine like ever to become a real, published author! All Angel’s shenanigans are revealed as she candidly shares how she went walkies from a quiet village in England’s Green and Pleasant Lands all the way across a very big pond to N.Y.C.

Angel’s “Shh…Secret Sharing Sessions” are a riotous romp of Mischief, Mayhem, Moan-fests and Musing on hugely important matters, namely Herself!



Why Helloooo My Lovelies,Beautilicious Westie Angel Nash in the house, with doggilicious tales to tell. A rollercoaster of fun and frolics, chaos and canines. So jump on board and enjoy the ride. It's choc full of my top Secret Sharing Sessions about my crazy capers with Grottie Grannie, my True Love Hamish and B.F stealing Frenemy, Kimbles the Bichon Frise! All the gossip direct from modest Moi, 'The Paws'...Shhh...don't tell!© Eily Nash


Wychwood ~ Winter’s Child


Lucis Ferre, dashing and debonair heart surgeon is the man of fragile Ellis Harwood’s dreams. Falling under his influence she becomes his wife, only to realise her husband is not what he seems. Lucis has a heart of darkness, forged in the foundry of his secret occult practices. On a harrowing winter’s night, vulnerable Ellis’ life is hanging by a thread, as the dream brutally becomes a nightmare and Lucis seeks to possess her very soul. Does Ellis have an Angel waiting in the wings to offer deliverance from the evil doctor and is there any sanctuary to be found from his cruelty? By a twist of fate, Ellis finds herself in the Hamlet of Wychwood. It is a place where the veil between worlds is gossamer thin, nothing is quite as it seems and magic abounds. Enigmatic Peter Cabot, local country Doctor and Hepzibah, his eccentric housekeeper, welcome her to enchanting Myrtle Cottage and set about healing her battered body and bruised heart. But the malevolent Lucis has unfinished business with his runaway wife and under cloak of darkness comes seeking to reclaim her. Magic surrounds Ellis whilst she remains at Myrtle cottage. Can she escape the powers of darkness if she steps outside the protective spell of Wychwood? And if she does, then who will win the battle for her eternal Soul?



The Witching Hour…

Torn From The Heart

Torn from the HeartCruel heartbreaker, Adam takes no prisoners in ‘Affaires de Coeur’. Fate takes a hand in his bad boy ways one dark, stormy night when Adam finds himself at the mercy of a vicious storm. Lost and afraid on a treacherous Moor, crying out for help, in the middle of nowhere, will anyone hear his pitiful plea? Chancing upon mysterious ‘Half Moon Inn’ and beguiling inn-keeper Evelyn Blackmore, could his prayers have been heard? The raven-eyed beauty offers more than sanctuary. Through the hours of darkness, Adam’s fey companion spins fireside tales of love, loss, rejection, and redemption. Gradually he realises the ethereal Evelyn knows him all too well as she rips her preternatural tales from the recesses of his black heart. Evelyn weaves the unravelled threads of his deepest secrets onto the loom of his life, as Adam secretly plots scenes of soft seduction. Will Evelyn fall prey to her guest’s dark charms and be enticed into his web of deceit? Unbeknownst to him, the enigmatic beauty also has secrets and as the Witching hour fast approaches, so do uninvited and hungry ghosts of the past.

With more than a touch of magic in the air the Hunter just might find he has become the hunted

Available as Kindle ebook and paperback 


A Mouse Tail

We are very proud of our young son Ryan, he has just had an amazing report for his first term at big school. He has a big heart and a very kind and caring nature, and deserves this success. Ryan has helped me co-author three children’s books. Our very first joint venture was a charming little tale of against all odds, courage, faith and LOVE conquering all. I hope you enjoy a little taste from our first chapter :)

Beautiful Violetta craves excitement and when a beauty pageant is staged in her sleepy Somerset village she is determined to win the first round and go on to become ‘Queen of the World.’ With her head full of dreams, vain Violetta sets of for the bright lights of Victorian London. Forgetting all about the little Mouseling she has left behind Violetta’s heart is set on finding fame and fortune. Magdalena wakes to find Violetta has vanished in the night. Determined to find her, the little Mouseling bravely sets off in hot pursuit after her wayward Mama. Although her journey is littered with many pitfalls, perils and full of danger, taking her all the way from England’s shores to the New World, she never gives up hope. Will Magdalena find Violetta. And if she does, will vain Violetta return back home? Follow Mouseling Magdalena on an amazing adventure and find out just how with a lot of courage and a big heart she becomes ‘Maz the Marvellous Mouse‘!

EWWWW.....That Rotten Rodent....Grrrrr....

Chapter One ~MOUSELING
Our story takes places a long time ago in Victorian times in England. This was an exciting age of new mechanical inventions, of steam boats and trains and adventure. Yet there were still many quiet and rural places where life went on pretty much as it always had. The little Hamlet of Wychwood deep in County Somerset was one such place. Wychwood consisted mostly of a scattering of farms. There was the Norman church with its big square tower and cosy church hall, the Inn and a small shop selling provisions and haberdashery. It was on a cold Winters eve with the ground all covered with a bitter frost that a tiny Mouseling was born on one of the farms down by Four Acre Field. Her home was a large old tithe barn. In Medieval times, many centuries before, the tithe barn had belonged to the Monks of the great Abbey at Glastonbury, which was just a few miles away. It had been used to store all manner of good things the Monks would need, such as grains from the golden crops that grew in the fields all around. There is nothing unusual about mice being born. Some still in that old tithe barn, which having stood the test of time is still standing.

However, there was something quite remarkable about this little mouse, and what happened to her in her life. The new-born was tiny and pink. The mewing creature was called Maz. Her name had been shortened from the most elegant Magdalena. Her Mama, Violetta, had thought this a most pleasing and fitting name for her precious Mouseling. Her Mama was sure her little Mouseling would be just as beautiful as she was, with her soft golden brown fur, shiny black eyes and lovely long and silky tail. However, much to her dismay her baby Magdalena was small, pale and delicate and did not look as if she would make it through that harsh Winter’s night.

Violetta, was very vain and quite silly and found caring for a sickly child just too much bother. Violetta soon realised that being a Mama was just no fun at all. She longed for excitement, for something different from her quiet life on the farm.

Sadly, all Violetta cared about was looking her beautiful best. Violetta was so disappointed that her special name she had chosen did not suit the weak little creature, and so lazily shortened it to Maz. Violetta meanly thought the little Mouseling was rather thin, and much too plain and just did not deserve such an elegant name as ‘Magdalena’ after all. The shortened Maz was far more suitable. A small name, for a small and totally unimportant Mouseling. As unkind as Violetta was, her daughter loved her Mama absolutely.

One night, little Maz popped her little black nose out of the safety of their mouse hole home. Her whiskers twitching warily, she scuttled across the scary floor of the old barn. She was hungry and she was desperately looking for food. Violetta, as usual, had much more important things to do, like attending to her beauty, than feeding hungry little Mouselings. Maz could not ignore her tummy as it rumbled noisily.

She was scared, it was a big world outside of the mouse-hole, but she was very hungry. She ventured out into the dark night. The other mice, who often brought her food, had told her that in the old stone farmhouse across from the barn there was a kitchen. The Farmers’ wife cooked all manner of tasty food on the big black range cooker in the warm kitchen. Under cover of darkness the crafty mice often scuttled out of the safety of the barn sneaking into the kitchen to see what tasty morsels they might find. Maz liked cheese, she liked it very much, especially the rich yellow cheddar that was made on the farm.

Maz crept quietly into the Kitchen to see if she could get some of that rich, tasty yellow cheese. Her hungry tummy rumbled again, as loud as a volcano that might erupt at any moment. In the huge farmhouse kitchen the big scary farm cat was snoozing in his comfortable bed by the fireside. The fire was nearly burnt out, just warm orange embers gave a warm glow to the room. The noise of Maz creeping across the flagstone floor woke him up with a jolt. The other mice had told Maz that the cat was a very mean cat, which you could guess by his name which was Fang. He hated the pesky mice. He hated how they sneaked into the kitchen to steal the food. It was his job to get rid of those pesky mice and he took his job very seriously indeed.

It was a brave mouse who would enter the farmhouse kitchen when Fang was there. No one had mentioned this to Maz. No one thought she would be so silly or so brave to venture out all alone in the dark when she was so young. No one thought that her Mama Violetta would be so selfish as to go out to a party held by the Voles, otters and other river creatures down by the stream, and forget to feed her hungry little Mouseling before she went.

Fang stirred. Fang saw Maz. Fang chased Maz

© Eily Nash & Ryan Nash




 L’eau de Reynard

In which Angel shares thoughts of a fragrant nature.

ANGPlease join me my Lovelies, as I reveal a most unfortunate and traumatic event, and I URGE you to have copious tissues ready because you will melt with compassion for my plight. I also name and shame the perpetrator of this dastardly deed. You won’t believe it and will be shocked at their temerity. You will be shocked at the treachery. Grannie take cover, you may well receive a big batch of hate mail! There comes a time in every dog’s life, and I shudder at the recollection, when something totally unmentionable happens. Even to an amazing pooch like me.  I’d like to share with you one such occasion. I was put through some considerable, and in my not so humble opinion, totally unnecessary trauma by my Grannie. Shame on her. She said it was for my benefit and why was I complaining as she really enjoys the thing. To be honest I cannot see her fascination in immersing herself in the revolting stuff. Did I  like it, Hell no, not one bit. And I have lots of photographic evidence to prove this crime against nature. Humans are clearly not quite as evolved as us Canines, I cannot believe I actually allowed her to dunk me in…Ewww…warm, bubbly, scented, yucky water…Pure Hell, I tell you, pure hell!


I really do not understand what on Earth possessed her to wrinkle her freckly nose and hitch me up under her arms without a thought for my considerable dignity and do such a horrid thing to Moi. I was distraught and I was also very, very cross with Grannie and it is never a good idea to cross ‘The Paws’ as dire retribution has been known to follow. The experience left me wondering what on Earth is the matter with the crazed woman, the garden is full of yummy piles of nice fresh fox poo, just begging to be rolled in. So I did. I rolled, and rolled and coated myself liberally. It was doggilicious heaven! Instead of Grannie traumatising innocent Pupster’s and forcing them to stink to high heaven like her, she would smell a whole heap better if she went out there and explored her ‘inner dog’ too!

When the deed was done, I had a chat with her, my Lovelies, it did not go down too well and I am not sure quite why not.

‘Grannie,’ says I informatively ‘Take my advice,  I totally recommend a nice skank around outside. Get down to ground level, have a good sniff and you too could find an offering from Mr Fox, and then a good old roll will do the trick. Two seconds flat and you will be coated liberally in a most pleasant and highly satisfying aroma. You will also be absolutely irresistible to the opposite sex! I mean, Grannie, you do need all the help you can get, Just sayin’ Grannie’.

She immediately embraced her inner dog, but not quite how I expected. She put her nose to my nose and growled. Then she picked me up by the scruff of my delightful neck and parked me in my doggy day bed.

You may wonder did she eventually listen? Would a dab or two of L’eau de Reynard improve her quality of life? Was I right? Of course I was, Westies know best. Grannie, obviously has no taste. So as Grannie did not chose to follow my sage advice I decided to take matters into my own paws…”

I did warn Grannie there would be consequences ;) All the mischief and mayhem that subsequently ensued is faithfully reported in my magnifique Magnum Opus “Telling Tails” ~Treat yourself to a fun read, my Lovelies ~At a special low price  for a limited time!!!

Check Moi out on Amazon like right now :)

Telling_Tails_Cover_for_Kikindle ndle

My Lady, Lily Flame


My Lady,  My Love, My Lily Flame

Do you wear a sullied cloak of shame

Has purity and innocence taken flight

To the beguiling dark embrace of Night

 Nyx and Erebus, alluring, starless charms

 Mists enticing into their seductive arms


My Lady, My Love, My Lily Flame

Guileless innocence, without blame

Deny the Ferryman his Stygian fee

From Thanatos tenebrous  domain flee

By  flames of Winter burning bright

Take safe passage through the  night


My Lady, My Love, My Lily Flame

Capricious gods may play Night’s game

Gates of the rising sun light the way

To sanctuary of Hemera’s breaking day

Purified by the kiss of the  Morning Dew

Absolution and Benediction fall on you

© Eily Nash


I so love white lilies, and keep a vase by my desk as I work.