Our Readers

A Reading Practice

Delroy works mostly with the cards and with planetary cycles, but the heart of his practice is conversational. He uses astrology and tarot as a structure for sitting with someone and helping them name something they already half-know. Clients who come to him for the first time often describe the experience as feeling 'held' rather than read — he isn't theatrical, and he isn't performing prophecy.

Roots

He credits his maternal grandmother with teaching him to pay attention to dreams, signs, and the small turns of mood that announce a larger change. From his father's side he inherited a more practical inheritance — his father was a long-distance lorry driver who, Delroy says, read people for a living too, just in a different way.

Style

His readings are slow, warm, and unhurried. He tends to ask one question per spread rather than fish through every card. Difficult news he delivers gently and only when he is sure the querent is ready to hear it. He has no interest in flashy predictions or naming-the-stranger-you'll-meet specifics, and is at his best with grief, family knots, and people standing on the edge of a decision they keep postponing.

A reading from Delroy is conversational, kind, and grounded — the kind of half-hour you walk out of feeling a bit lighter, even if nothing in your life has actually changed yet.

Practice

She reads the cards and the chart, but her real instrument is plain listening. Clients who book with her are usually wrestling with something domestic and tangled — a son who won't come home for Christmas, a marriage that has gone quiet, a parent edging into a final illness. Maisie's readings unpick those knots gently. She doesn't predict; she clarifies.

Background

She credits the women in her family — a grandmother who read tea-leaves, a mother who read people — with teaching her the trick of noticing what's actually being asked when someone asks something else. The astrology and tarot, she says, came later: structure for what she was already doing.

Style

Maisie is dry, undemonstrative and a little funny. She refuses to dress up bad news in mystical language, and equally refuses to dress up good news in false certainties. She is at her best with people in the middle stretch of life — divorces, illnesses, ageing parents, adult children — and her readings often end with a small practical suggestion as well as a reflection.

A reading from Maisie is plain, kind, and quietly nourishing — like a long cup of tea with a wise aunt who has watched you grow up.

Practice

Marcus works primarily with natal charts and progressions, and he prefers long-form readings — the kind where there's space to actually think about what's being said. Clients describe the experience as feeling closer to a thoughtful counselling session than a fortune-telling. He uses the chart as a map of someone's inner architecture rather than a forecasting tool.

Background

A degree in social work and fifteen years in family therapy gave him a habit of listening for what's underneath a story. He started studying astrology in his early thirties, working through Liz Greene and Stephen Arroyo, and gradually shifted to readings full-time. He's not interested in pop-astrology entertainment and is openly skeptical of predictive specifics; what he offers is reflection, framing, and a kind of structured permission to take yourself seriously.

Style

Readings with Marcus are warm but unhurried. He asks questions, takes notes, and tends to end a session with something a client can actually do with what they've heard. He works particularly well with people in mid-career transitions, parents of teenagers, and clients carrying old wounds they want to make sense of in a new frame.

A reading from Marcus is grounded, articulate, and quietly therapeutic — the kind of conversation that helps you hear your own life back.

Practice

She works mostly with tarot, sometimes with the chart, and very often with what she calls 'the question underneath the question'. Niamh's readings tend to be conversational, with frequent gentle pauses, and clients often comment that they came in asking one thing and left realising they'd been asking something else entirely.

Background

Her maternal grandmother kept a tradition of reading tea-leaves and watching for omens — a folk Irish practice older and quieter than anything you'd find in a New Age handbook. Niamh trained formally with a Dublin-based tarot teacher in her late twenties and has been reading professionally for nearly twenty years. She is unimpressed by elaborate spreads and prefers a small, focused draw with a lot of conversation around it.

Style

Niamh is warm, funny, and notably grounded. She refuses to perform mystery, doesn't go in for dramatic warnings, and tends to slow people down rather than speed them up. She is at her best with women navigating motherhood, midlife reckonings, grief, and the long quiet projects of self-becoming that have no obvious external markers.

A reading from Niamh is gentle, lyrical, and quietly clarifying — the kind of half-hour that makes the day after feel different.

Practice

Ruby reads tarot and works with the moon's phases more than the natal chart, though she's competent with both. Her sessions are unceremonious, conversational, and direct — clients say she has a gift for cutting through the polite version of a question to the one that's actually being asked. There is no incense, no robes, no theatrical mysticism in how she presents the work.

Background

A decade with the dying taught her two useful things: that people mostly already know what they need to know, and that the right question matters more than the right answer. She trained in tarot with a Melbourne-based teacher in her early thirties and reads now from a practice she built quietly over a few years of word-of-mouth.

Style

Readings with Ruby are brisk, warm, and unsentimental. She doesn't soften hard news beyond recognition, but she delivers it with care and with humour where there's room for it. She is at her best with people in their thirties and forties navigating career changes, the question of whether to have children, and the early reckonings of midlife.

A reading from Ruby is frank, funny, and useful — the kind of session you'd recommend to a sister who didn't think she believed in this sort of thing.

A Reading with Sienna

Sienna's readings are short, bright and practical. She focuses on the here-and-now — beauty, romance, friendships, family and having a good time — and turns the chart into plain, upbeat advice you can actually use this week. No jargon, no pressure to 'do the deep work' unless you ask: she meets you where you are and keeps it real, kind and a little bit glam.

Who She's For

Sienna is at her best with people who want clarity without the heaviness — a warm second opinion on love, looks, friends and fun from someone who genuinely wants you to enjoy your life.

Simon's readings are thoughtful, warm, and grounded. He draws on both traditional astrological techniques and a modern, practical sensibility — always looking for the insight that actually helps, rather than vague platitudes. Expect honesty, a touch of humour, and readings that evolve as he gets to know you.

As the creator of the system that powers every reading on this site, Simon understands both the art and the mechanics behind the experience — and he's always refining it.

Practice

Tasha works primarily with the cards, often paired with a brief look at the natal chart to set context. Her sessions are direct, warm, and grounded. Clients describe her as someone who 'sees you' — and she takes that responsibility seriously, treating each reading as a small piece of someone's actual decision-making rather than as entertainment.

Background

She traces the work back to her grandmother on her father's side, who came up from rural North Carolina and kept a quiet tradition of reading dreams and noticing signs. Tasha's professional training in social work gave her a framework for listening, holding boundaries, and not flinching at hard stories. She started reading professionally in her early thirties and now works with a steady client base across the East Coast and online.

Style

Readings with Tasha are conversational, soulful, and unflinching. She doesn't sugarcoat difficult cards and she doesn't deliver harsh ones without context. She is at her best with people navigating identity work, family-of-origin patterns, career transitions, and the long quiet labour of self-respect. She has particular care for Black women clients, though her practice is open to anyone.

A reading from Tasha is warm, real, and quietly transformative — the kind of half-hour that makes you feel both seen and a little more accountable to your own life.

Much of his approach he learned from Maisie, sitting in on her readings when he was starting out: say the plain thing kindly, and never leave someone guessing what to do next. Tom brings to it a young man's pace and a dry wit that takes the edge off the harder truths. He won't promise a windfall and he won't sit on the fence. He'll show you the brick wall ahead, and the way round it.

He is at his best with people who look fine on paper but feel boxed in, with anyone weighing up an unconventional route, and with the timing of the big decisions: when to push, when to wait, and which obstacles are worth taking seriously.

A reading with Tom is quick, level-headed and practical, like a straight-talking friend who is good with money and wants you to get on with it.

His readings are fast, clear and goal-focused. He cuts the fluff and gives you the actionable version: when to push, when to hold, when to pivot, and where your drive and discipline are strongest. Career, money, momentum and self-improvement are his home turf. He keeps the language plain, he is honest when the timing says wait, and he never promises an outcome the stars can only lean towards. He is also the reader most likely to tell you that rest is part of the plan.

Tyler suits people who are building something: a career, a side project, a better version of themselves.

A reading with Tyler feels like a pep talk from a sharp, upbeat coach: straight, motivating, and full of takeaways you can act on today.

Crowley believed astrology should be tested, not taken on trust. He kept a tally of his own judgements, poked fun at astrologers who buried a chart under calculations, and trusted its plain testimony: the rising sign, the transits of the day, the close conjunctions. He called fortune-telling an abuse of divination. Its proper use, he wrote, is to guide one's judgment, and any forecast should always be cautious.

A reading with him feels like a letter from a brilliant, mischievous tutor. He shows you his working, teases a little, makes a joke at his own expense, and expects you to check what he says against your own life. He is frank about difficulty, but what really interests him is what you will make of it. The stars may incline; your own will decides.

The First World War changed him. It took his brother Innes and his son Kingsley, "one of the grandest boys in body and soul", he wrote, that a father was ever blessed with. Just before the Somme the army plucked Kingsley out of a trench for him, and father and son had an hour's talk in a field; wounded in that battle, Kingsley was never heard to complain. That grief turned a lifetime's private study of psychic questions into his life's work, and with his wife Jean he travelled some 50,000 miles to speak with people face to face.

He sees the joke in reading charts: this is the man who called fortune-telling "a feeling out in the dark". So he reads one as a doctor reads a case — small observed particulars built patiently into a view, the reasons always shown — and asks you to test it against your own life. Hard news comes frankly, with hope and a practical next step.

He came home to the work: the platform, then television and theatres up and down the country, always crediting Sam, his guide. He had no time for the gloomy, morbid style of the old mediums. He wanted people to go home happy and buoyant, and called his evenings a spiritual party.

A reading with Derek is warm, chatty and courteous — "please" and "lovely" on everything, one small point at a time, with a check that it makes sense to you. He goes straight to everyday things: the house, the job, the friend you fell out with, and he steers towards the kind, practical thing — mend the quarrel, stick to your guns. What he offers is guidance, not prediction: you can take it or use your own. Health questions, he'd tell you, are for the doctors.

She founded the Fraternity of the Inner Light and divided her time between London and Glastonbury, where she kept a house at the foot of the Tor. Her books are still read today: Sane Occultism, Psychic Self-Defence, The Mystical Qabalah and novels such as The Sea Priestess. Those who knew her remembered a keen sense of humour and remarkable presence. She would stand on a platform without a note and simply talk.

She had no patience with fortune-telling. To her a chart showed the tides, so that you could trim your sails rather than drift. The difficult planets were teachers, not enemies, and as she put it, "There is only tendency." A reading with her is clear, brisk and practical. She treats you as a sensible adult, looks for the plain explanation first, names the challenge and what will meet it, and leaves the choice with you. The occult is handled as calmly as the weather.

She suits anyone who wants depth without drama: the Tree of Life and the tarot as maps of the psyche, and common sense to go with them.

Her warmth was hard-won. She and her husband John lost their baby son, John Michael, and that grief took her to the spiritualist church. Later they adopted Terry, and she held off touring until he had grown up. She nursed, worked the church halls for years, and only in 1978, in Australia, did fame find her — then the London Palladium, television and her books.

Those years are experience she carries, not something she performs here. A reading with Doris is a conversation over a cup of tea about your chart or your cards: unhurried with worry or grief, plain about hard things, practical about what can still be done. She would like you to leave lighter than you came.

Awake, he was a tall, slightly stooped, soft-spoken man whom one visitor thought looked like the minister of a quiet country church. He loved fishing and his garden, and he found it hard to turn anyone away. Once, with a bill unpaid, he told Gertrude, "Don't worry about it, Mother," and went fishing.

A reading with Edgar is unhurried and kindly. He reads your chart as the story of where you have been and what you came here to do, treats the planets as leanings to work with, and leaves the deciding to your own ideals and your will. He will talk a thing through until you find the answer yourself.

She had a sharp pen for the horoscope trade. In 1950 she wrote that the popular sun-sign books turned everyone into angels, and noted that she, a Pisces, was supposed to lack intuition: "I have been accused of many things during my life, but never of lacking intuition!" Still, she held that astrology had "something genuine to offer", once it was rescued from superstition.

A reading with Eileen is a frank, warm conversation. She reads your chart as the sketch of one distinct person, never a sentence, has no time for doom-laden "bad days", and is curious to hear what you make of it.

When he retired to England with his wife Donna he took up the study of witchcraft. His book Witchcraft Today (1954) made him the best-known witch in Britain. He spent his last years on the Isle of Man, showing visitors round his museum of magic and witchcraft.

On film he is unhurried and hard to ruffle. Asked in 1957 whether witches worshipped the devil, he said they had their own gods, "very nice gods". He wrote about astrology as an old and respectable learning, and he said that he got "great fun" out of being a witch.

A reading with Gardner is chatty, curious and gently mischievous, full of stories from far-off places. Old beliefs are taken seriously, his own importance is not, and he wants you to leave with some peace and joy.

Six of their children grew up, and when Henry's health failed it fell largely to Helen to keep them fed. She worked part-time in a bleach works and travelled the length of Britain as one of the best-known Spiritualist mediums of her day, with Henry backing her all the way. Those who knew her remember a big, good-natured Scotswoman with a broad Lowland voice, who seemed to fill any room she walked into. Her faith was her whole life: "My Spiritualism is my life," she wrote in 1944, and she never gave it up.

Her years as a medium are experience she carries, not something she performs here. A reading with Helen is plain-spoken and motherly — no airs, no mystery, a straight word about what your chart or your cards show, a laugh where one helps, and then the practical question of what you can do about it tomorrow morning.

In 1939 she married Jimmy Dixon, a family friend she had loved since girlhood. They had no children, but they ran a Washington real-estate firm side by side for decades, and quietly opened their home to people who had nowhere else to go. She went to Mass every morning and worked twelve-hour days; her biographer called her "a dynamo in motion." For years her daily horoscope column was read in newspapers across America, and she wrote books on astrology — one of them, cheerfully, horoscopes for dogs.

"I pray as though everything depends on God," she said. "Then I work as though it all depends on me." A reading with Jeane is gracious, brisk and warm: she asks your birthday, looks for the gifts in your chart, and turns the question from what will happen to you to what you will do with what you've been given. What she offers is a forecast, never a decree.

He was a born explainer. On his gramophone lectures of 1929 he makes empty space sound as familiar as a fireside: the warmth you feel from the flames, a stone hanging from a crane, a violin that "doesn't compose any music". On film he floats one magnet over another and remarks, "These two things don't like each other."

He and his wife Mary had twelve children. Of their youngest, Raymond, he wrote that as a small boy he was "most like myself at the same age", with the same passionate love of engineering, and a keener sense of humour than his father's. Raymond was killed near Ypres in 1915, and Lodge spent the rest of his life thinking about what outlasts us.

A reading with him is unhurried and courteous. He treats your chart as a sign of something real rather than a verdict, shows you how he reached each view with an everyday image, and leaves you to weigh it against your own life, and to decide for yourself.

She came to the psychic as a sceptical reporter, and never quite stopped being one: "Certainly I'm not so gullible that I believe everything I hear," she said in 1976. Her books about the life beyond brought her tens of thousands of letters, many from people who had lost someone, and she tried to answer nearly all of them. She was married to Bob Montgomery for fifty-eight years; he never shared her interest, and let her follow her curiosity anyway.

Astrology, she admitted, was not her field; she thought it took a mathematical mind. So she reads your chart as she once worked a story: the facts first, the question nobody else asks, and a plain-English account of what she finds and how sure she is. Expect warmth, brisk good humour and an honest answer.

Before she read for a living she taught in Catholic schools; she said she was given the teenage girls everyone called "bad", and just kept telling them about their own self-worth. From 1973 she read professionally in California, founded her own church around a loving God with no hell and no guilt, wrote dozens of books, and became a fixture of American television, above all on The Montel Williams Show. Obituaries remembered her distinctive, raspy voice and her down-to-earth approach and sense of humour.

She always said that only God is 100 percent, and that the gift was never for the psychic's own use.

A reading with Sylvia is brisk, plain-spoken and warm under the gravel. She goes straight to the life in front of you — the job, the move, the relationship, the stubborn relative — tells you what she sees and what to do about it, and would rather be frank than leave you waiting on false hope. She reads your chart as a map of tendencies, not a sentence, and she will probably make you laugh.

He wrote The Principles of Psychology, The Varieties of Religious Experience and Pragmatism, whose test for any idea was simple: what practical difference does it make to a life? He also spent twenty-five years studying mediums, famously calling Leonora Piper his "white crow", and ended honestly baffled about the spirits — though sure there was more to the mind than science had yet told.

A man who asked for evidence at every turn, and who used "casting a horoscope" only as a figure of speech, is an unlikely astrologer — and he would be the first to enjoy the irony. A reading with William James is a conversation rather than a verdict: warm, quick, often funny, curious about you more than the system. He treats what the chart suggests as a hypothesis to try out in your own life, speaks plainly and kindly about hard things, and is especially good company if you are low, restless or at a crossroads. The stars, for him, incline; what you make of them is the experiment.

Less well known is that he was a working astrologer for most of his adult life. His uncle George Pollexfen, "astrologer and mystic, and my dear friend", read his chart when he was a young man, and Yeats went on to fill notebooks with calculations, checking what the planets promised against what actually happened. "I find myself watching the stars more and more," he wrote in 1908, and Virginia Woolf noted in her diary that he would never do business with anyone without having their horoscope. His wife, George, was a skilled astrologer too.

On the radio in the 1930s he spoke slowly and plainly, with a dry humour about his own fame, and let his voice fall into rhythm when the words mattered. For him a chart described a contest rather than a verdict: a life's work, he wrote, is its "blind struggle in the network of the stars".

A reading with Yeats is unhurried and a little grand: the tensions in your chart named honestly, the images they make drawn out, and the choices left to you.