In the days when I was young enough to be considering my first tattoo, it never occurred to me that I could have something that wasn’t just – on the wall. I love the designs on the wall. I love the act of sitting in the chair and someone bringing through a cup of coffee you can never quite reach. I love the smell of a tattoo studio – clean but without copping a lungful of disinfectant. I love browsing the books and chatting it over.

The scary thing is the sound of the needle. Rather like a dentist’s drill, it sets my teeth on edge and seems to suggest more pain than it actually inflicts.

It was a couple of years ago now, but a mate of mine gave me a book of tattoo designs for my birthday. I have a phoenix tattoo on my forearm. I’ll say it – it rocks. However, I really should have considered how to finish the sleeve before the final design was completed.
Yes, I have a phoenix, and it’s soaring up my arm. Into what?


The sky seems a bit obvious, and a tree would be out of scale. But thanks to this book of tattoo designs, I think I’ll have to go for a battle scene. The phoenix might have to take on a kraken.

This will have to wait until my books have exploded across the world because – well, like everyone else, I still have gas bills and other boring things to consider.

That said, I think I have achieved the emotional maturity to manage being a millionaire so, you know, when the time comes, I think I’ll cope.

Plus, book one is currently on sale so – have at it…

Sex, Death & Canapés