Hi all! Today I have the pleasure of joining in with Kristy Brown’s Just Sam blog tour 🙂

Many thanks to Kelly @ Love Books Group Tours for the opportunity to take part.

Interview with Kristy Brown…..

For those who don’t know already, could you tell us about yourself and your book(s) please?

Hi. I’m Kristy from the UK. I write mostly teen and YA books. My first series, ‘Kiera’s Quest,’ is published by Muse It Up Publishing. It’s a teen fantasy series and very different from my new book, ‘Just Sam,’ which is a YA Contemporary Romance. Sam is loosely based in the world of tennis, but you don’t have to like the sport to enjoy the book. It’s mainly about a girl who suffers a great loss and her way back to believing in herself again and trusting in life and love.

Where did/do you get your ideas from?

Just Sam was inspired by my childhood, me and my mum watching tennis and how exciting that was. Sometimes I dream characters, my new paranormal book is totally based on a dream I had about the male lead character and the rest followed from him.

Are any of your characters based (however loosely) on anyone you know?

Yes. The two male love interests in Just Sam are very similar to the two crushes I had at school. I think you have to fancy your leads a little for the reader to like them too. Sam has lots of me in her, fiery, ambitious, yet self-doubting.

How do you pick your characters names?

For Kiera’s Quest I must admit I picked names of family and friends. I tend to stay away from that now, I see a character in my head and usually just know what they should be called.

Can you share your writing process with us, in a nutshell?

Yes. I must have complete silence, so my kids must be at school. I write a chapter by hand, messy and quickly, and then I type and edit that until it reads to my liking.

Who are your top 5 favourite authors?

Tricky, I like so many… Rick Yancey, J.K Rowling, John Green, Kiera Cass and Jennifer Armentrout. I could go on…

If you could meet any author, who would it be and what would you ask them?

Hmmm, J.K Rowling because of her struggle to get where she is today. She inspires me, and I think she could give a pretty good pep talk.

Were you a big reader as a child?

Yes. I loved reading and writing. I read a lot of Roald Dahl and in my teenage years I loved the Sweet Valley High books.

When did you start to write?

I wrote poetry and short stories when I was younger. I stopped when I became interested in acting. I moved to a big city and trained in that, but I lost my passion for it. I found my love for writing when my first son was born. He’d sleep in the day and I started writing a short story. That became longer and longer and was my first book, ‘Kiera’s Quest.’

If you could re-write the ending to any book what would it be and what would you change?

Sorry to any fans of the Divergent series, but the last book. I loved this series, but I threw Allegiant across the room when I finished it. I hate it when an author kills a love interest/main character off. I understand why she did it, but when your heavily invested in these characters it feels like a betrayal!

Is there a book you wish you had written?

“The Fifth Wave,” by Rick Yancey. Maybe ‘Hush Hush,’ ‘Fallen’ by Lauren Kate…. Lots!

If you wrote an autobiography, what would your title be?

I’ve never thought about it… maybe that will come.

If you could invite any fictional character for coffee who would it be and where would you take them?

Can I say Thor? (Obvious reasons!) Maybe Louisa from ‘Me Before You,’ she’s so vivacious and fun.

What are you working on right now?

Right now, I’m working on my paranormal series, ‘Summer’s End,’ which is coming out soon with Muse It Up Publishing. I’m also editing a retelling of Cinderella. When I get any spare time, I’m writing and podcasting for my joint YouTube channel, ‘Two Wordy.’

Tell us about your last release?

Just Sam is my last release.

Do you have a new release due?

Summer’s End… any time now.

What do you generally do to celebrate on publication day?

I have a drink with my husband and friends.

How can readers keep in touch with you?

I have an author page on Facebook. I’m very active on Twitter @KBrownauthor and you can find all my books on Goodreads.

Is there anything else you would like us to know?

No, just a big thank you for having me!! I love chatting so come tweet me! 😊

Thank you for taking the time to answer my questions, Kristy 🙂 

Just Sam

All Sam dreams of is being the next big tennis champion.

But when she suffers a great loss at such a young age, she finds it hard to believe in herself.

She becomes so scared of losing people that she hides her feelings to protect her heart.

Will she ever let anyone close enough to truly love her?

She never realised, her toughest match would be against life itself

Check out the rest of the blog tour for reviews, and more, with these awesome book bloggers…..

Enjoy!

Hi all!

Today I have the pleasure of welcoming R. D. Stevens to Chat About Books.

R. D. Stevens grew up in Kent in the 1980s and, after studying for his Philosophy degree, travelled the world for two years. Upon his return to the UK, Stevens worked in the charity sector briefly before training as a teacher and completing his MA in Religious Education. He currently lives in London with his wife, young son and dog, as works as a Head of Philosophy, Religion and Ethics at a nearby secondary school.

Many thanks to Alexa Davies for arranging the following interview…..

For those who don’t know already, could you tell us about yourself and your book(s) please?

I grew up in an unremarkable village in Kent, England and, after finishing school and studying for a Philosophy degree, I escaped and travelled/worked my way around the world for two years. After returning to the UK, I worked in the charity sector briefly before training as a teacher and completing my MA in Religious Education. I currently live in South East London with my wife, young son and dog, and work as a Head of Philosophy, Religion and Ethics at a nearby secondary school.

The Journal is a work of contemporary fiction that explores themes of meaning, family and truth. The novel poses the question: What do you do when you lose the only thing that you truly care for? It is a coming of age story about Ethan Willis, a young man on the cusp of adulthood, who is compelled to discover what happened to his sister, Charlotte, a wild adventurer who was last heard from in the depths of Southeast Asia. Ethan sets out to follow in her footsteps and embarks on a journey without a clear goal in sight, unaware that his life is about to change rapidly and irrevocably. The closer he gets to discovering the truth about his sister, the more he begins to understand himself, as well as his place in the world.

Where did/do you get your ideas from?

I try to take ideas from anywhere I can. It might be conversations that I overhear on the train, dreams I record from my previous night’s sleep or simply experiences that I reflect upon from my day to day life. At work, I teach philosophy and I try to take ideas from the themes, philosophers and discussions that I am lucky enough to be exposed to everyday. I also love to travel whenever possible and whilst abroad I keep journals and try to use those first-hand experiences of beautiful, complex or stark settings as part of the research for my next book.

In beginning The Journal, I wanted to use my notes from my time backpacking so that I could authentically represent the time and place in which Ethan Willis finds himself. On my travels, I spent over six months in South East Asia and visited Cambodia, Thailand, Laos, Singapore, Malaysia and The Philippines. I instinctively felt that South East Asia would be the perfect setting for the story I had in mind. There is such a rich depth of variety, colours, tastes, sounds and experiences in South East Asia that I felt it would be the ideal place to throw my protagonist in at the deep end.

Are any of your characters based (however loosely) on anyone you know?

Whenever anyone writes they must draw from somewhere, so all of the characters in my novel are influenced by people that I have met or observed on some level. However, they are amalgamations, collections, developments or abstractions of these various encounters, there isn’t a particular individual on whom anyone in the book is based. Whilst backpacking, I met many different people who have influenced the characters in The Journal. In South East Asia, there were people traveling for different reasons and undergoing very different experiences and I wanted to try to represent them in the characters that Ethan meets along the way.

How do you pick your characters names?

Concerning the two lead characters, I found this process to be quite difficult. Ethan’s sister went through a number of different names before I finally settled on Charlotte. I think once you have set out the basic back story of your character and know that certain names would not be appropriate, it seems to come down to a certain feeling about what name best captures the character. Many of the names of the various backpackers in the novel are names of people that I had met whilst travelling and stuck in my head, such as Sven and Malin from Sweden.

Can you share your writing process with us, in a nutshell?

I try to record any ideas that I have for a short story or novel in a notebook or on my phone whenever I’m out and about. I then try to set aside time in the evenings in which I can shift my frame of mind from whatever has been happening that day into something different. When I sit down at the laptop and stare at the pixelated page, I enjoy the feeling of escape and the freedom of retreating into the world of my imagination for a few hours.

I try not to force my writing too much in any particular direction and to run with an idea if it starts leading me somewhere. Even if I look at that piece of writing another day and decide to scrap it, it is better than having nothing.

Once I feel I have reached a point where I can begin the editing process, my most important question is: Is there any chance that a sentence/paragraph would still work without a particular word/sentence? If there is, then I remove it. I also try to remind myself as often as possible that just because I’ve written something that I might think is clever, does not mean that it is…!

Who are your top 5 favourite authors?

This is a very difficult question to answer! But given that I’ve got to pick five, here goes: Chuck Palahniuk, Zadie Smith, J. D. Salinger, Ali Smith and Cormac McCarthy.

Were you a big reader as a child?

Yes, I think that was when my love of a good story first developed. My parents would buy me books as prizes if I ever did well at school and I think that the feeling of reward when getting a new book has stuck with me. I still love the feel of a brand new book in my hands.

When did you start to write?

I have been writing on and off for about ten years now. I write mainly in the time that I try to find during my evenings and weekends. What began as writing songs for a number of decidedly mediocre bands, turned into something more substantial when I signed up for a series of creative writing classes. During the classes, I really enjoyed setting aside the time to write and free up my mind to think about something completely different.

If you could re-write the ending to any book what would it be and what would you change?

I recently read a novel called The Tall Tale of Maxwell Anderson by Steve Joyce, which is worth a look if you haven’t come across it before. I don’t want to give away the ending, but a main character dies at the end of the book in a particular way and, whilst I think I would also have killed off that character, I would have done it quite differently…

Is there a book you wish you had written?

So many! Most books that I enjoy reading I wish I had written, to be honest. I am always amazed at the way that a great book can affect a person. To be able to write a book that had that affect, even on one person, would be wonderful.

If you wrote an autobiography, what would your title be?

What on earth was that all about?

If you could invite any fictional character for coffee who would it be and where would you take them?

I would love to have taken Holden Caulfield for coffee. I’d take him into an over-expensive, pretentious London café and we would people-watch and talk about how they are all phonies…

Tell us a random fact about yourself.

I was the secretary of the University of Sheffield Skydiving Society.

What are you working on right now?

I am currently in the process of writing my second novel. This story is very different from the first and is set in a world that is similar to ours but with one or two crucial differences. The inspiration for this came from Sidney Shoemaker’s thought experiment concerning the possibility of a world in which there is time without change. The style is very different to The Journal, but there are some familiar themes present concerning existentialism and the quest for meaning.

What do you generally do to celebrate on publication day?

Well, so far I have only had one publication day and on that actual day I had a lowkey celebration at home. A week later I held a book launch in a gallery space above a local pub which was much more of a celebratory affair.

How can readers keep in touch with you?

I am on Twitter and can be followed with the handle @RDStevensAuthor. I also have a website https://rdstevensauthor.wixsite.com/thejournal

Is there anything else you would like us to know?

The Journal is designed to make you think and take you somewhere new, so if you would like to take some time out from everyday life (and secretly wish that you too could escape to a beach in Thailand), then my novel might be for you…!

Thank you for taking the time to answer my questions! 🙂

What do you do when you lose the only thing that you truly care for?

Ethan Willis is a confused 18 year old who struggles with the uncertainties of life and has just embarked on a quest to find his elder sister, Charlotte, who disappeared whilst travelling in South East Asia. Ethan admires and idolises his sister for her spontaneity, individualism and worldly understanding. His quest to locate her throws him into the backpacking world and, following what could be his sister’s ghost, he is taken on a journey through the countryside of Cambodia, into the remotest parts of Laos and finally to the party islands of Thailand.

When Ethan finds his sister’s journal by chance, he traces her footsteps. The travel journal, along with flashbacks to their childhood, reveals Charlotte’s nature and her relationship with Ethan, taking the young man on an existential journey as he is led to address many of his questions about meaning, truth and beauty.

With the help of a Elodie, a fragile and complex girl with whom he has developed a meaningful relationship, and his own growing sense of self-esteem, Ethan begins to question his relationship with his sister and why she disappeared. When he finally learns of a place in which he might be able to locate his sister, will he be ready to find her?

Hi all! Today I have the pleasure of joining in with Martin Granger’s Drugs To Forget blog tour.

Many thank to Kelly @ Love Books Group Tours for the opportunity to take part.

Interview with Martin Granger…..

For those who don’t know already, could you tell us about yourself and your book(s) please?

I’m a BAFTA nominated film-maker and author. I ran a production company for thirty years and made more than one hundred documentary films on subjects varying from modern piracy to the origins of the universe. My books are international thrillers based on a fictitious documentary film company and their intrepid investigative film director Nathalie Thompson.

I have written three books to date: Manila Harbour, Oceans on Fire and Drugs to Forget. I am currently writing Nathalie’s fourth adventure, Out of Sight.

Where did/do you get your ideas from?

Many people make films from their books. I make books from my films as my thrillers are based upon my past documentaries. All I have to do is to tell the real stories but sprinkle in some added crime.

Are any of your characters based (however loosely) on anyone you know?

Most of them. Nathalie is based on someone who used to work as a freelance for my production company. She wasn’t meant to be in the first book at all but just appeared in chapter 7. My editor told me to remove the first six chapters as he said the story began with her. After banging my head against the wall a few times I took his advice. Nathalie has been my protagonist ever since. I’ll leave it to you to guess which character is me.

How do you pick your characters’ names?

The key ones, I have no idea. The supporting cast, if they are from a foreign country, I find them on the Internet, using links such as ‘common Zimbabwean boys’ names’.

Can you share your writing process with us, in a nutshell?

I don’t write, I talk. I have a voice-activated program that I’ve been using for more than twenty years to write my documentaries. In the past, most of my scripts were spoken by actors and the speech rhythms have been useful. Now I imagine a film scene in my head and just speak it into the computer hoping that my reader will see the same pictures.

Who are your top 5 favourite authors?

Ah difficult. Ancient or modern?

In my genre – Robert Harris, Martin Cruz Smith, John Le Carre.

Classic – Jane Austen (love her dramatic style), E.M. Forster (only connect).

If you could meet any author, who would it be and what would you ask them?

Evelyn Waugh – What were you on when you wrote Scoop?

Were you a big reader as a child?

My parents installed a window above my door so that they could see my light on at night.

I thwarted this by reading with a torch under the covers.

When did you start to write?

Seriously, about the age of nine. I still have the handwritten book titled ‘Dick Dauntless’.

If you’ve read Manila Harbour, you won’t believe it but it’s about pirates.

If you could re-write the ending to any book what would it be and what would you change?

Would never have the nerve to rewrite another author’s book.

Is there a book you wish you had written?

Any bestseller I think.

If you wrote an autobiography, what would your title be?

If I get knocked down…

If you could invite any fictional character for coffee who would it be and where would you take them?

Godbole (from A Passage to India). Jaipur coffee house.

What are you working on right now?

My fourth Nathalie Thompson book ‘Out of Sight’. A thriller about satellites and space junk involving a blind Film Director.

Tell us about your last release?

Oceans on Fire was published two years ago. A film crew are making a film on ocean energy when things start going seriously wrong. A book that questions who owns the oceans and the efforts people will go to grab their resources.

Do you have a new release due?

Drugs to Forget will be published on 31st May 2018. The story involves a foreign chemical agent found on British soil. Nathalie Thompson is charged with a race against time and the terrible threat of bioterror. And if you’re wondering whether the theme is familiar, I outlined the plot two years ago, long before the Russian nerve agent event.

What do you generally do to celebrate on publication day?

No plans at the moment I’m open to invitations.

How can readers keep in touch with you?

Follow me on Twitter @mgrangerbooks or contact details on my website martingrangerbooks.com

Is there anything else you would like us to know?

An article on the background of the book can be found in CrimeTime magazine using the following link.

http://www.crimetime.co.uk/drugs-to-forget-martin-granger-talks-to-crime-time/

Thank you for taking the time to answer my questions, Martin 🙂

Happy Bank Holiday Monday to you all!

Today I have the pleasure of joining in with George Costigan’s blog tour for The Soldier’s Home. I have a great interview with the author himself to share with you all.

Many thanks to Kelly @ Love Books Group Tours for the opportunity to take part.

Interview with George Costigan…..

For those who don’t know already, could you tell us about yourself and your book(s) please?

Basically the three books are the story of a house. A man moves his house, by hand, with a cow and a cart, and re-builds it. Why? That is for you to find out…

| Where did/do you get your ideas from?

Someone wise once said to me ‘ideas are just there, waiting for the person who finds them. I found this one because a friend took me to show me the house, in its utter isolation, and then told me the story of its being moved there and when i asked ‘why’ did the man do that, she said ‘There is no-one alive who knows…’ So I invented. That is how it all started.

| Are any of your characters based (however loosely) on anyone you know?

Far, far too much my wife says. I tend to use real people’s names and then change them later. Just to have a visual picture in my head to work with. That works best for me.

| How do you pick your characters names?

Sometimes following the procedure in the previous question, or I just choose a name I like or one that fits the character – but of course that character can change as you write a story and then I have to change his or her name accordingly!

| Can you share your writing process with us, in a nutshell?

Oh gosh. I write, I read it, I retain the stuff I like, I keep writing, I keep reading – a writer friend described it as ‘constant polishing’. I think you could consider me as a ‘constant polisher.’

| Who are your top 5 favourite authors?

OMG. Right now, and it changes of course, I’m reading Sebastian Barry and he is brilliant. Because I read she was Obama’s favourite author, I was curious about Marilynne Robinson and just had to read her – fantastic. I love Maurice Sendak, I always am delighted to go back to Byron – and a fifth? Chandler.

| If you could meet any author, who would it be and what would you ask them?

I’d like to have met John Steinbeck, but I’m quite sure I would have wanted him to do all the talking! Or Eugene O’Neil. I have no idea what I would ask them but it would be great to meet them!

| Were you a big reader as a child?

Tricky question as how can you compare? I could only with my brother – and we both read avidly I think.

| When did you start to write?

I think I have always tinkered with words, since enjoying writing essays at school. Writing has always been a part of me.

| Is there a book you wish you had written?

Loads and loads! Everything I’ve ever liked, actually…

| If you wrote an autobiography, what would your title be?

I’ll let you know if I do ……………..

| If you could invite any fictional character for coffee who would it be and where would you take them?

Good god. My brain fuses. Elizabeth Bennett, and there’s a wee coffee shop on Iona I’m sure she’d find relaxing, and I certainly would.

| What are you working on right now?

I’m about to re-write [‘All writing is re-writing’ said somebody harder working than me} a novel about a peculiar moment between a 30 year-old and a 70 year-old.

| Tell us about your last release?

‘The Soldier’s Home’ is the continuation and completion of the story of The House, released on May 17th.

| What do you generally do to celebrate on publication day?

This is only the second book I’ve had published so I have no ritual but I’m sure, like the first, it will essentially be a private thing, I will walk about my life and no-one knows my very special secret today. Exactly as I felt walking home from leaving my wife in hospital with our then five hour old son.

Many thanks for taking the time to answer my questions, George 🙂

THE SOLDIER’S HOME

George Costigan

“A magnificent, big beast of a book!” – renowned playwright Willy Russell

The Soldier’s Home is the stunning sequel to the bestselling debut, The Single Soldier, by actor and writer George Costigan.

‘Beautifully written.’ – Sally Wainwright

The war is over and his home was built…but a home is just a set of empty rooms without people and love. After surviving the devastation, secrets, lies and tragedies of a community under German occupation, can people now rekindle their lives, and rediscover their reasons for surviving? As the soldier waits for the return of his love, the world keeps moving, threatening to leave his hopes and dreams behind…. History, secrets and painful truths collide in this astonishingly human, warm and emotive sequel from writer George Costigan.

Purchase link…..

George Costigan is best known for Rita, Sue and Bob Too and more recently Happy Valley, his acting career has included working with Sally Wainwright, Willy Russell, Alan Clarke and Clint Eastwood. He has directed Daniel Day-Lewis and Pete Postlethwaite, and his writing for the stage includes several Liverpool Everyman pub shows and ‘Trust Byron’, for which he was nominated for Best Actor at the Edinburgh Festival. He and partner Julia North have three sons and one grandson and live in York.

Follow the rest of the blog tour for reviews, and more, with these awesome book bloggers…..

Enjoy!

Hi! I am thrilled to be joining in with Jo Furniss’s cover reveal for her upcoming release, The Trailing Spouse 🙂

The Trailing Spouse

Amanda Bonham moved halfway around the world to be with the man she loves. Although expat life in Singapore can be difficult, Edward Bonham is a dream husband and a doting father to his teenage daughter, Josie.

But when their maid dies in an apparent suicide—and Amanda discovers the woman was pregnant and hiding a stash of drugs prescribed to Edward—she can’t help but wonder if her perfect husband has a fatal flaw. And if he can’t resist temptation under their own roof, what does he get up to when he travels?

Camille Kemble also has questions for Edward. Recently returned to Singapore, Camille is determined to resolve a family mystery. Amid a jumble of faded childhood memories, she keeps seeing Edward’s handsome face. And she wants to know why.

For one woman, the search for answers threatens everything she has. For another, it’s the key to all she lost. Both will follow his trail of secrets into the darkness to find the truth.

Check this out ⇓⇓⇓

How gorgeous is that!! Love it!

Pre-order Links –

https://amzn.to/2GwaX9P (Amazon.co.uk)

https://amzn.to/2IC1jjv (Amazon.com)

http://bit.ly/2uUwSTt (Barnes and Noble)

Author Bio –

After spending a decade as a broadcast journalist for the BBC, Jo Furniss gave up the glamour of night shifts to become a freelance writer and serial expatriate. Originally from the United Kingdom, she spent seven years in Singapore and also lived in Switzerland and Cameroon.

As a journalist, Jo worked for numerous online outlets and magazines, including Monocle and the Economist. She has edited books for a Nobel laureate and the palace of the Sultan of Brunei. She has a Distinction in MA Professional Writing from Falmouth University.

Jo’s debut novel, All the Little Children, was an Amazon Charts bestseller. Connect with her via Facebook (/JoFurnissAuthor) and Twitter (@Jo_Furniss) or on her website, http://www.jofurniss.com.

Previous post on Chat About Books featuring Jo Furniss…..

Our first #Stoke-on-Trent #bookblogger / #author #meetup – 12th May 2018 😊

Winning Ticket is a very unique story and one which I have thoroughly enjoyed. It’s an interesting and thought provoking concept.

What would you do if you found yourself with a winning lottery ticket in your hand, but you knew full well it didn’t rightfully belong to you? Would you cash it? I’m sure many of us would at least be tempted! Would you be able to live with the guilt though if you did?

This is exactly the situation Rakesh finds himself in when Tom, a local drunk, brings his lottery ticket in to be checked. Rakesh owns and manages a shop with his wife Jas. They have two children, Sangita and Amal, and they are struggling. The shop isn’t doing well and Jas is very unhappy. No wonder Rakesh sees this lottery ticket as their only way out! However, this goes against everything a Sikh stands for and it isn’t long before Rakesh finds himself unable to cope with the guilt. I’m sure most people, Sikh or otherwise, would struggle with their conscience in the same situation.

Jas’s happiness with their new fortune and luxury lifestyle is short lived and she finds herself increasingly worried for Rakesh’s health and her intervention sees him face to face with Tom again. Rakesh sees this as a sign and is determined to make amends, even if it means losing everything.

Winning Ticket is a very character driven story. These people are very real and believable and I found myself immersed in their story. I don’t know much about the Sikh religion so it was good to learn a bit about that. Rakesh is a very likeable character, despite his lapse in judgement that day. I didn’t warm to Jas, I have to say. Not until right at the end at least. Tom is a great character. I loved that he formed an instant connection with Amal. He seemed genuinely thankful for the healthier life he was now living. An inspiration to anyone struggling with addiction and proof that things can work out alright in the end. I have an inkling he might have known the truth all along.

I have heard that Winning Ticket is to be made in to a film which I think is awesome! Definitely one to watch.

Many thanks to the author and publisher for my review copy. I am more than happy to recommend.

Rakesh Singh can’t make his general store pay and Jas, his wife, just hates shop-life. Rakki is Dudley-born, and Jas is from Punjab. Daughter Sangita aspires to get into music college and son Amal has learning difficulties. With money tight, it’s hard to know which way to turn.
Temptation comes Rakki’s way when a drunken down-and-out leaves behind a winning lottery ticket. It could make all the difference… But how to hide the secret? And what of conscience and Sikh ancestral roots?
A trip to India merely fuels his guilt, and as the family enjoy new riches, Rakki’s life is soon spiralling downwards. Bemused by drink and pressured by blackmail, he sees no escape, until a chance meeting with the man he wronged spins Rakki off in an entirely new direction.

About the Author

Hi! I’m delighted to be joining in with Rachel Lynch’s Deep Fear blog tour today. I have a lovely interview with the author herself to share with you all. 

Many thanks to Ellie Pilcher, at Canelo, for the opportunity to take part.

Interview with Rachel Lynch…..

For those who don’t know already, could you tell us about yourself and your book(s) please?

I’m a busy full time mum. I was a history teacher for twelve years and a personal trainer for ten. I began writing full time eight years ago. I love all genres but I write Crime Thrillers because I get to create awesome characters who pursue a journey to enable good to triumph over evil and I love that about crime fiction.

Where did/do you get your ideas from?

I get my ideas from everything; it might be an overheard conversation, a news piece, an ancient myth, a character at an airport, or something my children told me. I’m thinking about stories constantly, and writing is one way to still the noise.

Are any of your characters based (however loosely) on anyone you know?

I suppose we all write about what we’ve seen and experienced. There’s lots of me in Kelly: I’m from Cumbria, I’m a runner, I’m stubborn and committed, but, there the similarity ends. There are bits of my husband in Johnny: he’s ex-army, but, again, my characters have to fly solo and once they’re created they begin to evolve all on their own. That’s the joy of fiction: creating a whole world to immerse one’s self in.

How do you pick your characters names?

My character’s names are utterly random. Except that I make a point of making sure they’re not real or related to anyone in my life.

Can you share your writing process with us, in a nutshell?

My writing process is utterly erratic and depends on when I get a moment’s peace. I have two demanding children (13 and 11), and I usually write when they’re either at school or in bed. I write at a desk in an extension with a lot of sun light, and I sometimes listen to music. I’m very near the kettle as I drink a lot of coffee.

Who are your top 5 favourite authors?

This is such a difficult question! I have no idea how to narrow down the thousands of amazing authors I’ve read. All I can do is tell you about five people who pop into my head and who, when I’ve read their work, make me emotional. Maya Angelou, Primo Levi, Khaled Hosseini, Joseph Conrad and Daphne Du Maurier.

If you could meet any author, who would it be and what would you ask them?

Another tough question! Perhaps Arthur Miller, and I’d ask him what it was like to be witch hunted in the Red Scare of the 1950s in America. (I might also ask him about Marilyn Monroe.) Turning life experience into unforgettable fiction, like The Crucible, is awe inspiring to me.

Were you a big reader as a child?

My head was always in a book as a child, books were my life. They were my gateway out of a very narrow minded, working class upbringing and showed me places that I wanted to go. I’ve never lost that sense of exploration and wonder. Books make everything possible.

When did you start to write?

I’ve always written something, from poetry to articles. I began writing seriously eight years ago, when I wrote my first full length novel. I can remember thinking that 100,000 words was an impossible task, but I eventually managed it and that’s now where I’m comfortable.

If you could re-write the ending to any book what would it be and what would you change?

Being a hopeless romantic, I’d probably have Romeo and Juliet running away together.

Is there a book you wish you had written?

There are plenty! I like stories that make my hairs stand up on end, so, Sarah’s Key by Tatiana De Rosnay would be one example…

If you wrote an autobiography, what would your title be?

The Road less Travelled

If you could invite any fictional character for coffee who would it be and where would you take them?

It would have to be Hercule Poirot, I’d take him to a little place on Montmartre…

Tell us a random fact about yourself.

I don’t like oysters

What are you working on right now?

In between the publicity for Deep Fear, I’m editing number three in the Kelly Porter series and finishing number four.

Tell us about your last release?

Dark Game is about a series of seemingly unconnected crimes in The Lake District, investigated by Detective Inspector Kelly Porter. She unravels a web of organised crime that has been establishing itself in the area for quite some time, and introduces us to Kelly’s professional and personal life. She faces tough decisions as her enquiries sometimes fall too close to home, and, as the shady and brutal characters behind the stream of illegal activity are revealed, Kelly realises that perhaps her beloved Lake District isn’t the sleepy tranquil idyll that she once assumed.

Do you have a new release due?

Deep Fear sees Kelly Porter back on the case, but this time hunting a sadistic killer who leaves strange clues on each victim. It’s a race against time for her to solve the case as more and more women are taken, and pressure mounts to rid the beautiful Lake District of a deranged monster.

What do you generally do to celebrate on publication day?

It’s an ordinary working day for me, I get on with my work because there’s always more to say.

How can readers keep in touch with you?

I’m on twitter @r_lynchcrime and Instagram at rachellynchcrime. Come and say hello!

Is there anything else you would like us to know?

Crime in the Lake District is actually very low!

Thank you for taking the time to answer my questions, Rachel 🙂

Title: Deep Fear

Author Name: Rachel Lynch

Previous Books (if applicable): Dark Game

Genre: Crime, Thriller, Police Procedural

Release Date: 21st May 2018

Publisher: Canelo

Book Blurb: DI Kelly Porter is back. But will this new case push her beyond her limits?

On a peaceful summer’s morning in the Lake District, a woman’s body is discovered outside a church. She’s been murdered and a brutal, symbolic act performed on her corpse. DI Kelly Porter is in charge of the team investigating the crime, and is determined to bring the killer to justice. But as more deaths occur it is clear this is the work of a disturbed, dangerous and determined individual. Can Kelly put the puzzle pieces together before the danger comes closer to home?

Don’t miss this gripping crime thriller featuring an unforgettable detective. Perfect for fans of Angela Marsons, Patricia Gibney and Robert Bryndza.

Link to Book:

Author Bio:

Rachel Lynch grew up in Cumbria and the lakes and fells are never far away from her. London pulled her away to teach History and marry an Army Officer, whom she followed around the globe for thirteen years. A change of career after children led to personal training and sports therapy, but writing was always the overwhelming force driving the future. The human capacity for compassion as well as its descent into the brutal and murky world of crime are fundamental to her work.

Hi all! I’m delighted to welcome Patricia Furstenberg back to Chat About Books today, as part of her As Good As Gold blog tour 🙂

Guest post…..

Five Things My Dogs Have Taught Me – by Patricia Furstenberg

I love dogs, I admit it, if you haven’t figured that out until now as of the eight children’s books I wrote so far six are about dogs or have a dog as one of the characters. Here are five things the dogs I was fortunate enough to share my life with have taught me.

Always say it how you feel – especially when you are happy. You might just make someone else happy!

Dogs just know how to be happy! When I was still living in an apartment I could hear my dog’s claws on the hallway tiles while I was still approaching the front door, before I even tried to unlock it! Then she would shake her sleep off and begin to whine as I never, ever, could unlock the door fast enough! The joys of our reunion always put a smile on my face no matter the type of day I’ve had! But what about her day? She’s been home alone, mostly sleeping, probably doing a few rounds between the door and the window, to check for any pedestrians. Yet she never complained; she was always overjoyed about our reunion.

Take a walk… or two

Except for the midst of European winter, when the snow is piled so high that not even dogs wants to go out (I know mine didn’t! My father had to pick her up, avoid the heaps of snow and choose a flat enough area for our dog to… well… relieve herself; after which she would dash for home!) – well, except for those days, dogs love the outdoors! They enjoy the weather, feel the breeze, soak in the sun, chase a bird or two. Now I don’t intend chasing birds, yet taking an aimless walk just for the sake of the wind and the sun does feel refreshing and I discovered that it helps me get rid of stress and clear my mind. Don’t dogs know best?

Trust your pack. And love it unconditionally

Are humans pack animals? I think we are, although some of us *ahem* crave solitude and do need it to write… Dogs need their pack, be it just one human or an entire Italian family. They need it, adopt each member (but only recognize one as their leader) and love them unconditionally. I think their pack is what “home” really means for a dog. What gives them a sense of security and belonging. And they are so true in their choice of sanctuary. Family is what matters most and what is worth fighting for at the end of the day. If you would have to leave your home in the spur or the moment and would have only two minutes to take something valuable with you, what would it be? What is the first thing that goes through your mind (and your heart)? I know I would grab my kids and my husband and never let go of their hands.

Home, sweet home

A dog that lives in an apartment would adore outings, the park and to socialize with other dogs, fetching sticks and sniffing just about each bush and tree… Yet he would also love to hang on the sofa, lay next to you (preferably with his heads on your leg) and chill. Just chilling at home – I must do more of this stuff!

A muddy carpet isn’t the end of the world

Ever house trained a puppy? Ever took a dog for a walk on a rainy day only to return home and look away for just a second – enough for the puppy to conclude, all on his own, that his paws are clean enough?

If you went through this then you’ve learned (I know I did!) not to sweat the small stuff. A muddy carpet (or sofa, as busy paws never sit still especially when they are dirty!) can be cleaned, eventually. A dress can be replaced and so does the cover of the car seat. What matters is what stays behind; the laughter, the memories, that fuzzy feeling.

Thanks so much for such a lovely guest post, Patricia 🙂 I love my pooch!

As engaging as a tail wag.
Celebrating the simple things in life as seen through the eyes of our old time favorite furry friends, “As Good as Gold” is a volume of poetry revealing the talent and humor we always knew our dogs possessed.
Dogs are full of questions, yet they are famed sellers of innocence especially when it comes to explaining their mishaps and often foolish effervescence through such pondering as “Why IS a Cat Not Like a Dog”, “As Brown as Chocolate”, “Silver Stars and Puppy Tail” or, best yet, “Dog or Book?”
A book with an enormous heart for readers of all ages, it includes 35 poems and haiku accompanied by expressive portraits of our canine friends. The poems are grouped in: Questions, Colors, Musings and Haiku.

* Ideal to boost you up by reading one poem at a time,
* Great conversational piece to have around on a rainy day,
* Fantastic tool to discuss colors in nature and everyday questions with your little ones,
* A gentle way to introduce children to animals’ feelings,
* Amazing picture to cheer you up.
* An ideal gift for any dog lovers!

Excerpt…..

KINGDOM

Endless walls, whispers,

Tall, leafy soldiers stand guard.

The king is walking.

Purchase here…..

Enjoy!

About the author…..

Patricia Furstenberg came to writing though reading, her passion for books being something she inherited from her parents.
She won two key legs (chapter six, “Someone is Missing” and chapter nine, “Reconstruction of the Crime”) of the Write Your Own Christie Competition and was runner-up for chapter four. The Judges “were impressed by her thorough investigation and admired the strength of her narrative; they were impressed by her style” and congratulated Patricia on winning the penultimate chapter. “This was perhaps one of the hardest rounds of the competition and the judges felt that Patricia’s chapter was confident and intriguing.” The judges thought Patricia’s writing style is “well structured, with a great sense of tension and suspense.”

The Judges were Mathew Prichard, Agatha Christie’s grandchild involved in publishing and promoting her books since 1960s, David Brawn, Agatha Christie’s Publisher at Harper Collins UK for the last 20 years and Daniel Mallory who works primarily with thrillers and crime fiction at Harper Collins US.

When she’s not writing Patricia likes to read, read, read, drink coffee and listen to music.
One of the characters portrayed in her children stories is Pete, the yellow toy elephant. Not many know, but Pete exists and lives in Pat’s home.
This Romanian born writer is living happily with her husband, children and dogs in sunny South Africa.

Patricia Furstenberg Author Page and Blog: http://alluringcreations.co.za/wp/
Patricia Furstenberg for Huffington Post SA: http://www.huffingtonpost.co.za/patricia-furstenberg/

Connect on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PatFurstenberg
Connect on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/PatriciaFurstenbergAuthor
Connect on LinkedIn https://www.linkedin.com/in/patriciafurstenberg

Patricia Furstenberg was interviewed by author and marketeer David P Perlmutter
http://thewrongplaceatthewrongtime.blogspot.co.za/2016/08/lets-meet-author-patricia-furstenberg.html

Today I have the pleasure of sharing a lovely interview with Jacqui Lofthouse as part of her Bluethroat Morning blog tour 🙂

Interview with Jacqui Lofthouse on publication of the digital version of ‘Bluethroat Morning’

For those who don’t know already, could you tell us about yourself and your book(s) please?

Lovely to meet you Kerry!

I’ve been writing fiction since my late teens and in my late twenties was lucky enough to study Creative Writing at UEA (University of East Anglia) under Malcolm Bradbury and Rose Tremain. I’m now the author of four novels ‘The Temple of Hymen’, ‘Bluethroat Morning’, ‘Een Stille Verdwijning’ (only published in Dutch!) and ‘The Modigliani Girl’. ‘Bluethroat Morning’ a literary mystery, was originally published by Bloomsbury in 2000 – but this is the first digital edition of the book.

I’m so excited that the book will now reach new readers. ‘Bluethroat Morning’ is set on the North Norfolk coast and is a psychological mystery about a schoolteacher, Harry, investigating the suicide of his wife. She was a celebrity author and former model and as the novel begins, Harry at last feels ready to revisit the scene of his wife’s death – with his new lover, Helen. There they meet ninety-eight year old Ern Higham and a tale unravels which has been generations in the making…

On a personal note, I have recently returned to acting. I was a professional actress briefly aged 18 and toured India in a play. Now I’m attending IDSA (Identity School of Acting) and spend my weekends auditioning and taking part in student films…

Where did/do you get your ideas from?

I’m often inspired by images in art galleries or historical fragments I pick up in my reading. ‘Bluethroat Morning’ strangely, began, when I couldn’t get a single image from one of my abandoned novels out of my head. I’d written a scene where a Victorian girl walks along Cley beach in Norfolk in a bustle dress, with her dying uncle at her side. Yet I wanted to write a modern novel. It didn’t make sense… Until I realized I should write about someone obsessed with this girl. And of course, this reveals that I’m often inspired by the atmosphere of places that I’ve visited.

Are any of your characters based (however loosely) on anyone you know?

Very occasionally, but less so in this book. Sometimes I do use images to inspire characters and in this instance, I had an image of the novelist John Fowles in mind when I imagined my character Harry physically. That image really helped me to bring Harry alive.

How do you pick your characters names?

Sometimes they just float into my head and feel ‘right’ – and for surnames in particular, I do look into my own past – but also look up lists of surnames and browse until I see something that has the right feel for a character. In this novel, the protagonist is Harry Bliss. As soon as I saw that name, I knew it would be right for him.

For my first novel ‘The Temple of Hymen’ the male protagonist’s name ‘Vermilion’ just seemed to float into my head – and only later did I realise its similarity to the name Emilia – the female protagonist – as if one character contains the other and vice-versa.

Can you share your writing process with us, in a nutshell?

Essentially, I think finding the right pace is key. I dislike ‘speed-writing’ and neither do I like to agonise over each word. In advance of writing a scene, I like to get clear on my intention for the scene and to then write it with a sense of direction. As I write, I try to really allow it to come alive in my imagination, so there’s a flow to the writing – I like to be able to really inhabit a scene as I write. Later that evening I print it up and scribble a little on the text to make small improvements and I begin the next day by putting those tiny edits into the text before I move forwards again…

Who are your top 5 favourite authors?

That’s such a hard question – but I think like many people, the authors I love most are those that I fell in love with in my teens and early twenties – one never loses the sense of romance that surrounds that first passion! So rather than five favourites, perhaps five most influential – I’d say it’s Thomas Hardy, Virginia Woolf, John Fowles, Paul Auster, and Jeannette Winterson.

If you could meet any author, who would it be and what would you ask them?

I’m writing this after a day spent at the Dickens Museum so today I’d love to meet Charles Dickens and to ask him how he managed to remain so prolific throughout his life.

Were you a big reader as a child?

Yes indeed and I loved visiting the library. I loved Enid Blyton’s ‘The Magic Faraway Tree’ and Roald Dahl of course. I remember bringing a hugely fat book of fairy stories home and being incredibly proud that I had such an enormous book. As a teenager I read a lot of romance and horror – Danielle Steel for example and books like Jay Anson’s ‘The Amityville Horror’ – nothing terribly highbrow. Though I do remember when I got into Simone de Beauvoir and turned a bit of a corner…

When did you start to write?

In my late teens when I entered a journalism competition in Cosmopolitan. I used to fantasize about becoming a magazine editor in New York!

If you could re-write the ending to any book what would it be and what would you change?

I read Anna Karenina last year and like many readers would love to have seen the consequences of the ending of that book more fully explored. I can’t say I could write like Tolstoy – but if I could, I’d love to make the impact of the final tragedy more satisfying to readers.

Is there a book you wish you had written?

So many books that I’d love to have written if I didn’t have to go through the sweat of the process!

If you wrote an autobiography, what would your title be?

Well, I do have a memoir on the go, so I might keep readers waiting for that one…

If you could invite any fictional character for coffee who would it be and where would you take them?

Years ago I interviewed the novelist Sybille Bedford (sadly no longer with us). I so admired her novel ‘Jigsaw’ shortlisted for the Booker Prize in 1989. The world of Sanary-sur-Mer on the Côte D’Azur in France between the wars was so beautifully depicted there. I’d love to meet the young Billi of that novel in Sanary in the twenties and hear her tales about Aldous Huxley, who was clearly such a great influence on her life (it’s an ‘autobiographical memoir’).

What are you working on right now?

A YA novel about a young girl coming to terms with the death of her father who was a war photographer. Also my first play.

Tell us about your last release?

‘The Modigliani Girl’ is a satire about the contemporary literary world. It’s about a would-be novelist Anna Bright who is writing a novel about the artist Modigliani’s mistress. But in the process of writing, she gets pulled into a media circus – a televised literary competition. Will she manage to save her sanity and her relationship, before she becomes a by-product of the literary world?

Do you have a new release due?

The first digital edition of ‘Bluethroat Morning’ is published on 22nd May this year.

What do you generally do to celebrate on publication day?

Usually have a lovely lunch with my publisher, in this case Stephanie Zia of Blackbird Digital Books. But this time around we will do it a little later – as on publication day I’ll be recording my actor’s voice showreel and heading onto drama school for a rehearsal!

How can readers keep in touch with you?

I run a coaching organisation for writers (www.thewritingcoach.co.uk). You can find out more about my novels here: http://thewritingcoach.co.uk/about/novels/ and sign up for my newsletter on that site.

You can also find me on Twitter @jacquilofthouse Or on Facebook here: https://www.facebook.com/jacquilofthouseauthor/

Or Instagram @jacquilofthouse

Is there anything else you would like us to know?

I’m an Essex girl; a Joni Mitchell fan; am slowly getting better at yoga; like drinking turmeric lattes; am married to a cartoonist (our children are aged 17 and 21) and when not with my family, am never happier than when writing or in the drama classroom.

Thank you for taking the time to answer my questions, Jacqui. It was lovely to meet you too 🙂

‘A thriller full of twists and turns that keeps the reader guessing. Every word is magical, almost luminous.’ – Daily Mail

Alison Bliss, celebrity model and critically acclaimed writer, walks into the sea one ‘bluethroat morning’. In death she becomes a greater icon than in life, and the Norfolk village where she lived is soon a place of pilgrimage. Six years later her husband Harry, a schoolteacher, is still haunted by her suicide and faithful to her memory. Until he meets Helen and they fall in love.

Harry and Helen’s relationship initiates a return to the scene of Alison’s death where they meet ninety-eight year old Ern Higham, and a tale is revealed that has been generations in the making. As Harry pieces together a tragic history and finally confronts his own pain, he discovers that to truly move forward, first he must understand the past …

‘A moving read, threaded through with mystery and excitement.’ – Good Housekeeping Magazine

‘A classic tale of longing.’ – Time Out

‘There are many elements to savour in this novel: the intertwining of past and present; the struggle to write and the responsibility of writing about others’ lives. Best of all, Lofthouse has a fine eye for the bleak Norfolk landscape and how it both reflects and affects characters’ moods.’ – Tracy Chevalier author of Girl with a Pearl Earring

‘Captures the spacey feel of Norfolk well – an engaging read, intriguingly structured, tough in some of its insights, and sexy too.’ – Lindsay Clarke, author of The Chymical Wedding, winner of the Whitbread Prize for Fiction

‘Those who feel the reading public’s love of the 19th century Gothic mystery may be abating will be given pause by this latest entry in the field of pastiche. This is a considerable piece, full of subtle characterization and a well-chosen raft of literary underpinnings.’ – Publishing News

‘The intertwining of the two main stories is very skilfully done, as is the delicacy and understanding she brings to the key themes – suicide, creativity, love and especially paternal love. Very moving.’ – Henry Sutton, novelist and co-director MA Creative Writing, UEA

‘A literary masterpiece.’ – My Chestnut Reading Tree

‘Simply stunning. I absolutely loved it.’ – Being Anne

‘An impeccable piece of fiction that has the feel of a literary classic.’ – The Book Magnet

‘Blackbird Books always have such wonderful authors.’ – Linda’s Book Bag

Pre-order link…..

Enjoy!

I’m thrilled to be joining in with Cassandra Parkin’s Underwater Breathing blog tour today! 🙂 I have an extract and giveaway as part of my stop, with thanks to Imogen at Legend Press.

UNDERWATER BREATHING

CASSANDRA PARKIN

ISBN (Paperback): 9781787198401

ISBN (Ebook): 9781787198395

Price: £8.99 (Paperback) £4.99 (Ebook)

Extent: 320 pages

Format: 198x129mm

Rights Held: World

On Yorkshire’s gradually-crumbling mud cliffs sits an Edwardian seaside house. In the bathroom, Jacob and Ella hide from their parents’ passionate arguments by playing the ‘Underwater Breathing’ game – until the day Jacob wakes to find his mother and sister gone. Years later, the sea’s creeping closer, his father is losing touch with reality and Jacob is trapped in his past. Then, Ella’s sudden reappearance forces him to confront his fractured childhood. As the truth about their parents emerges, it’s clear that Jacob’s time hiding beneath the water is coming to an end.
Can a crumbling family structure mend the ties that bind them?

Extract…..

Chapter Two

2007

On the third morning in their house at the end of the world, Jacob woke to sunshine and silence and a sky that stretched out and out like a flat blue sheet. He lay in bed for a few minutes, listening to the small sounds of the house as it moved and settled. He was still learning the personality of this new home. The warm places and the draughty ones. The spots where you could walk freely and the ones where the boards would shriek like mandrakes. The welcoming rooms and the ones that brimmed with darkness. After so many years of smallness and making do, the emptiness and light made him feel as if the top of his head might come off. So far, this house seemed worn but welcoming, the way he imagined it would feel to visit grandparents. He wondered if the house knew it was destined to fall into the sea eventually, or if it believed it would stand for ever, as solid and permanent as the day it was first built. In the corridor outside, a small sound like a mouse told him Ella was there. After a minute, the door moved slightly and half of her face peered cautiously in. “It’s too early,” he told her, not because it was too early but because he wanted her to start learning that it wasn’t okay to come into his room without being asked. Then, because her face looked so resigned and sad as she turned away, he added, “but you can come in anyway. As long as you don’t fidget.” A scurry of feet and a glad little hop and his bed was full of Ella, smelling of clean childish sweat and strawberry shampoo. At six, she was getting too big to do this; her sharp little toes scratched against his leg as she wriggled beneath the covers. He’d been exactly the right temperature when he woke up, but with Ella beside him the bed was like a superheated prison. He’d have to get up soon. “Do you like our new house?” he asked. To his surprise, she immediately shook her head. “You don’t? Seriously? Why not?” She whispered something, but he couldn’t make it out. “Don’t whisper, I can’t understand you. Talk to me properly.” She looked at him silently. “Fine, don’t talk to me properly, that’s up to you. Come on. It’s breakfast time.” His room and Ella’s were at one end of a short corridor that terminated in a rounded turret. When they first looked at the house, he’d seen the turret from the outside and hoped it might be his bedroom. As it turned out, the turret room was a cavernous bathroom that his parents had instantly told them both they were never to use – a rule Jacob took great secret pleasure in ignoring. He shut the bathroom door on Ella’s hopeful face. He wasn’t going to have her watching him pee. When he opened the door again, her expression reminded him of a dog waiting for its owner. “I waited for you,” she said, and took his hand confidingly. “You did.” “Are we going downstairs now?” “We are.” “Shall we have breakfast now?” “Yes.” “And Mummy and Daddy aren’t awake yet?” “I don’t know.” It was still strange to find himself in a space where every action of every person in the household wasn’t instantly telegraphed, not just to everyone in their own home, but to everyone in the homes on either side and on top of them as well. “We’ll go past their bedroom and listen.” “Did they argue last night?” The sudden question pierced him. He’d wanted to believe that, with this new home, the shouting would stop. “No, I don’t think so.” Lying to his little sister felt wrong, even when it was for her own good. “You didn’t hear anything, did you?” “Yes.” “You can’t have done, you were asleep. You must have dreamed it.” “I woke up and I couldn’t sleep again because I was frightened. I don’t like it here. The sea’s too close. It’s going to come and take our house away.” “Don’t be silly, the sea’s not going to take our house away.” “Yes it is, that’s what the man said. It’s going to come in the night when it’s raining and take our house away and we’ll all go floating in the water and never see each other again.” “Stop it. That won’t happen. Well, it might happen in the end, but not for years. Now come on, we’re going to find some breakfast.” The door to their parents’ bedroom was closed as they passed it. He paused a moment in case he could hear anything, get a measure of the emotional temperature of the household, but there was nothing. The acoustics here were another mystery he was still exploring. Sometimes you could stand by a halfopened door and hear almost nothing of what was being said on the other side. Sometimes you could be three rooms away and a voice would come to him with startling clarity. (“My head’s like a beehive,” his mother had said yesterday as he stood in the tiled room by the front door, idly contemplating the patches of damp that bloomed across the bare walls, and he was so convinced that she was behind him and speaking to him that he turned to ask her what she meant. “And you’re like a beekeeper. You keep the bees in order and stop them from swarming too far.” And it was only when his father replied, “So do the bees like it here?” that he realised he was standing beneath their bedroom and eavesdropping on their private conversation.) They left their parents’ room and went downstairs. The flowing wooden curve of the bannister beneath his hand felt like an old friend. He had to stop himself from laughing out loud as the hallway came up to meet him. The kitchen smelled of last night’s dinner – a chicken curry that had been delicious at the time, but now just smelled gross. He wrestled with the back door for a while, until finally a gust of warm clean air rushed in. Another glorious thing about their new home: the garden that came with it. He still couldn’t quite believe it was all theirs. “Do you want a picnic?” he asked Ella. She was rummaging in the cupboard where she’d insisted on stashing her own special plastic cups and plates. Her face looked at him doubtfully over the top of the door. “Come on, let’s go outside and eat. It’s warmer outside than in here.” The breeze tugged at his hair and the legs of his pyjamas. “My feet will get cold.” “Put your wellies on.” “It’ll be all wet.” “No it won’t.” “I don’t like it outside, I’d rather eat inside –” “I’ll get your wellies for you. Don’t try and make breakfast, I’ll do it.” He crammed the toaster with bread, then sprinted to the tiled room by the front door, which his mother had now declared to be the cloakroom. If he wasn’t quick enough, Ella would think he wasn’t coming back at all and would start assembling her own breakfast, which was unlikely to end well. Ella’s wellies – purple and white with a unicorn face moulded into the toes, a magical charity-shop discovery – lay at rest between his father’s muddy work boots. As he picked them up, he heard his parents speaking in the room above, and paused a moment, holding his breath so he could hear more clearly. “We shouldn’t have come here.” His mother, her voice low and full of conviction. “It’s too quiet.” We belong here, Jacob thought furiously, trying to send his thoughts up through the ceiling and into his parents’ brains. Don’t argue. Please don’t argue. This is our home, we’ve finally got one. Don’t ruin it. “And that’s exactly why we bought it! Because it’s quiet. We’ll be safe here. End of the world and turn right, remember?” “But if the world ends and we turn right, do you know where we’ll be?” A little frightened laugh. “The sea wants the house too.” “We’ve got time. We’ve got at least twenty years, that’s what they said. Isn’t that enough for now?” “And you’re drinking again. Don’t tell me you’re not because I know you are, I could smell it on you last night.” “We were celebrating! Last of the unpacked boxes? You had some too.” “I saw you drink three glasses of wine and a glass of whiskey with me, and I saw you down three fingers of whiskey in the pantry and then refill your glass and bring it out again.” No, thought Jacob, don’t do this, stop it. Don’t ruin this house. “Are you spying on me?” “No. Yes. Yes, I was. I spied with my little eye. I’m good at watching you, I have to be.” “For God’s sake! Look, that’s all in the past, isn’t it? It was a hard life for both of us and we both had our ways of coping, didn’t we? And sometimes – sometimes – I used to drink a bit more than I ought to. But now we’re here and we’re safe, so you can stop looking over your shoulder all the time, and I –” “Can stop drinking in secret?” “It wasn’t a secret, it was an impulse. I had one extra mouthful of the good stuff because I was happy and then I came out. It wasn’t three fingers, it wasn’t even three millimetres, it was just a little mouthful. You’re exaggerating again. And I wasn’t drunk, I’m never drunk.” A brief silence. “Now why don’t you come here?” The sound of feet moving above him, and then a single murmur of pleasure with two notes to it that sent him scurrying to the doorway, Ella’s boots clutched tightly in his fingers. He’d been listening at doors since his father’s first hesitant question (“Jacob, would it be all right if I brought a girlfriend home one time?”) – but his parents doing that wasn’t something he wanted to listen to ever. In the kitchen, he found imminent disaster. Ella, industriously busy as she always was when left to herself, had used a chair to climb the worktops, opened all the cupboards until she found the Cheerios, filled her bowl and the surrounding floor with crunchy cereal hoops, climbed another chair to reach the fridge and taken out the milk. Now she was struggling with the screw-top, her mouth open with concentration and her hair tousled and fluffy in the sunlight. He yelped in panic, took the milk from her and put it out of reach. “I told you not to try and get your own breakfast,” he said, unsure whether to tell her off or admire her persistence. “Never mind. Put your wellies on.” That garden! His heart lifted every time he caught a glimpse of its wild neglected tangle. (“It used to be bigger,” the vendor said ruefully as he showed them around a lawn bursting with dandelions, bounded with rose bushes at the sides and with a scrub of brambles and gorse marking the spot where the garden spilled onto the cliffs.) Jacob didn’t care about how big it had once been; what they had now was astounding. In the middle of the lawn, a crabbed old apple-tree crouched over a patch of barren earth made briefly lovely with fallen blossom. Ella made a beeline for the spot beneath the tree, milk and cereal slopping out of the sides of the bowl as she went.
“Come on,” he coaxed Ella. “Let’s go closer to the sea.” She shook her head. “We might see a seal. Like in your animal book?” “I want to sit under the tree.” “No, we’ll sit where we can see the water at least.” She shut her eyes and turned away. “There’s a beach down there. We could paddle maybe. Look for shells. Come on Ella, don’t be a pain. I’ve done everything you want so far, I spent ages yesterday helping you get your room sorted, now it’s time to do something I want.” “No. I don’t want to see the sea, I want to stay here and play in the garden.” “Well, if you won’t come with me then I’m going on my own,” he declared, and marched off with his toast, knowing he’d just invoked the nuclear option and she would follow him, because she worshipped him. He wasn’t being fair, but then it wasn’t fair that he’d spent most of yesterday unpacking clothes into drawers and books into bookshelves while she endlessly rearranged six plastic unicorns along her window ledge, so now he got to cancel out that unfairness with a bit of his own. He heard Ella scurrying behind him. She had discarded her cereal bowl somewhere in the garden. After a minute he took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze. Sharing Jacob’s toast between them, they pushed through the grudging gap in the tangle of gorse and brambles that marked what Jacob presumed was the end of their garden. The spines of the gorse glinted with the raindrops it had captured last night. (“Now everything will grow,” his mother had said dreamily, looking out of the window. “Like having a gardener come for free. Free rain. And tomorrow you kids can have free rein…”) Beyond the thin thread of pathway, the cliff-edge rushed downwards. “Is this still our garden?” Ella whispered. “Are we still in our garden?” “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“There’s a path, though. Are people allowed to make a path in our garden?” “I don’t think anyone really comes here anyway. It’s too –” he stopped before the word dangerous could get away from him – “too quiet.” “So who made the path then? Jacob, what if people can come in our garden?” At the foot of the cliff, an empty, shingly beach had rolled itself out. Sunlight washed over the pebbles and struck sparks off the water. A rowboat bobbed a few feet from the shore, oars resting on the cross-struts that braced its wide-bellied shape. There was no sign of the boat’s owner. “We could maybe get a boat,” he said. Ella shook her head. “Come on, it could be fun.” “I don’t want to go in a boat, they’re dangerous.” “No, they’re not. Shall we go down there?” “Please can we go back to the house now?” “No, let’s explore.” A crumbly brown pathway led like a slipway onto the pebbles below. It looked steep but doable. “Hey, this might even be our own private beach. How cool would that be?” “I don’t want to go on the beach, please Jacob, I don’t want to go on the beach.” He picked her up and slung her across his hip. “No, please put me down, put me down, please, Jacob, please –” “Shush. You’ll like it when we get there. And stop wriggling or I’ll drop you.” He scrabbled down the slope. Ella was a dead weight in his arms, fingers hooked into him like claws. He would have bruises later. The sand was as deserted as it had looked from above. They might be the only people left alive in the world. Against his chest, Ella was like a vibrating drum. “Come on,” he said coaxingly, half-ashamed now he’d got his way. “It’s lovely down here. Do you want to paddle?” She shook her head. “We can play some games if you like, or just collect stones and stuff. What’s the matter now?”
Ella pointed to the slick black shape that lay, basking in the sunshine, a few feet from the base of the cliff. “Is it a monster?” she whispered. “Is it? Will it get us?” “Oh, wow.” Jacob’s heart swelled with gladness. “Oh, wow, that’s a seal. Ella, that’s a seal.” “It looks like a monster.” Her fingers were slackening their death-grip on his arms. He put her down before she could grab on again. “Is it really a seal? An alive one? Not a toy one?” “Of course an alive one, who’d make a toy seal that big? Do you want to go closer?” “Should we stroke it?” “Definitely not, but we can look.” “Would it be soft?” “I don’t know, it might be, I know they’re furry but I don’t know what they feel like.” There was something odd about the seal’s shape; it was thinner than he’d thought at first, lacking the acute upward curve of insulating fat, and while its tail-flippers looked right, there was something odd about the fore-flippers. Perhaps it was dead; perhaps that was what it was doing all by itself. “Actually, maybe we shouldn’t get too close, we don’t want to frighten it.” “It’s waking up,” Ella breathed. “Is it going to come and see us?” “No, don’t go any closer, it might not be safe, Ella please, no, don’t –” And then the seal turned its head and he saw that they were stalking a woman, small and round and sturdy, lying in the sunlight in a thick black wetsuit that covered her from cap to toe, and now was sitting up and looking at them. “Sorry,” he muttered, trying to take Ella’s hand so they could get away. The woman shaded her eyes with her hand so she could see them better. “We thought you were a seal,” Ella said. “There are seals around here,” the woman said. “But you shouldn’t go near them. They’re hunters, not cuddly toys.”
“I’m called Ella. And he’s called Jacob. And my mum’s called Maggie and my dad’s called Richard and we live –” “Shush, Ella.” Jacob felt as if his face might burn right off his bones with embarrassment. “And I’m Mrs Armitage.” She got to her feet, taking her time about it. Her face was brown, her gaze piercing. “Do you know there’s no way off this beach?” Jacob looked at her blankly. “We got down here.” Mrs Armitage nodded towards the steep slope of earth. “That’s not a path, that’s a cliff-fall. Coming down is one thing. But if you try and climb back up it, it’s liable to come down on you.” “Oh. Okay. We’ll find another path then.” “You won’t find any. There are no safe paths down here. And you can’t climb the cliffs, they’ll come down on you.” “Jacob,” said Ella, her eyes widening. “Shush,” said Jacob. “It’ll be fine.” “But how are we going to get home?” “We’ll be all right, Ella! Stop fussing!” “You’d better come with me,” said Mrs Armitage. “In my boat, I mean. I’ll row you round to the next cove. You can pick up the path and walk back.” “We’ll be fine,” said Jacob. “You’ll drown if you don’t,” said Mrs Armitage, her voice as flat and calm as a millpond. There was no way off the beach. Or was there? What if this strange woman was simply telling them this so she could lure them out onto the water? “Have we got to go near the sea? Jacob, have we got to go on the boat?” Mrs Armitage was older and smaller, he could probably fight her off if he had to, but what if he couldn’t? And what if she was right about the beach? What was the right thing to do? “Ella, will you just shut up, please!” “I don’t want to go on the boat, I don’t want to go on the boat, please don’t make me go on the boat, the sea will get me!” Ella clung to his leg like a bramble. Her face was white. Jacob realised for the first time the scale of her terror. And he’d made her come down here… “Ella?” Mrs Armitage knelt down at Jacob’s feet. “Ella? Listen to me. I need to tell you something.” “She doesn’t like strangers,” said Jacob wretchedly. “Don’t, you’ll frighten her.” Mrs Armitage took no notice. Instead she smoothed Ella’s hair back to expose the tender pink shell of her ear. She put her mouth against it and whispered. And to Jacob’s apprehensive surprise, Ella’s grip on his leg began to loosen and she turned her face towards Mrs Armitage. “Shall we get on my boat now?” Ella’s face was white, but she nodded and held out her arms. “No, I’m not going to carry you, you can walk.” As if Mrs Armitage had cast a spell on both of them, they trailed in her wake towards the waiting water. “Take your trainers off and roll your jeans up. No, don’t carry them, tie the laces together and hang them round your neck. And the little one needs carrying.” She scooped Ella up under one arm, not the way a woman would normally lift a child but like a farmer lifting a lamb, and held her out to Jacob. The water was so cold it felt as if it hated them. Jacob gritted his teeth and kept wading. Ella’s foot slipped briefly below the surface, and she whimpered and drew herself up against his chest. “The boat’s going to be heavy,” said Mrs Armitage. “So I need you to get in when I say and sit where I say and sit still, you understand me? And don’t put your feet on my scuba gear.” Stacked beneath the seat was a pile of equipment – a tank, a mask, some sort of thing like a thick sleeveless jacket. Mrs Armitage pointed at Jacob. “Pass your sister to me, then get in. Slowly, don’t tip the boat. Now sit right in the middle of that thwart.” “I don’t know what the –”
“The thing like a seat that’s clearly the only place you can sit and that I’m pointing at,” said Mrs Armitage, with no particular emphasis. “And then keep still.” Jacob climbed obediently in. He’d thought the point of boats was to keep the water out, but there was a good inch of sea water sloshing around. He tried not to cringe as it washed over his naked feet. “Now I’m going to pass Ella to you. Sit her on your knee so the boat stays balanced.” Ella’s teeth were chattering with fear and her fingers clung like twigs to the thick black material of Mrs Armitage’s wetsuit. “No, none of that, thank you. Let go. That’s right.” She dropped Ella onto Jacob’s lap. “There you are.” Then there was a quick slither too fast to follow, and Mrs Armitage was effortlessly balanced in the centre of the boat, which – just as she’d said – now rode alarmingly low in the water, with what seemed like only a few inches of woodwork separating them from the waves. Mrs Armitage took the oars and began to pull. This was it. They were officially out at sea with a total stranger. He held Ella as tightly as he dared. Getting the boat moving through the water took a lot of effort. He could see the strain in Mrs Armitage’s face as she wrenched at the oars. After the first few strokes, she paused to push the black cap from her head, revealing cropped brown hair turned tufty and wild by its confinement. “Can I help?” Jacob asked after a while. “I don’t know. Can you row?” “I’ve never tried.” “Then no, you probably can’t help.” She kept rowing. The beach was growing more distant. The silence settled around them like mist. “Our house is going to fall into the sea,” said Ella suddenly. “Ah.” Mrs Armitage nodded. “So you’re the ones. And that’s your house.” He glanced over his shoulder. They were far enough out now that their house was visible. Did this mean his parents, looking out of a window, might be able to see their children afloat on the North Sea with a stranger? He wondered if they were looking for them yet, and how much trouble he’d be in when they finally got home. “It’s not going to fall into the sea,” Jacob told Ella. “Yes it is.” Mrs Armitage’s voice was so flat and calm that it took him a minute to realise he’d been contradicted. “This whole coast is going to disappear in the end.” “Could you stop frightening my sister, please, she’s only six.” “But the good news is,” Mrs Armitage continued as if he hadn’t spoken, “you’re a good twenty feet further from the edge than I am, so mine will go first. So as long as you can still see my house, you’ll know you don’t need to worry. I leave a light on in my bedroom window all night. You’ll be able to see it from your turret window.” She paused for a moment to catch her breath. The boat hopped up one side of a wave and down the other. Ella grabbed onto Jacob’s t-shirt. “I live in the white cottage just along the cliff. My husband chose it. He always liked to be near the sea.” They both looked where Mrs Armitage was pointing. “Then, of course, he ended up drowning in it.” On Jacob’s lap, Ella shuddered. He wondered what would happen if he stood up and pushed Mrs Armitage into the water. “But when your house falls into the sea, you’ll be in the sea too,” said Ella. “And then you’ll drown.” “No, I won’t.” “Yes you will.” “No, I won’t. I told you. I can breathe underwater.” “How? How can you breathe underwater?” “That’s my secret,” said Mrs Armitage. “But I can learn to do it too?” “She’s a scuba diver,” said Jacob crossly. “See those tanks? They’re full of air. She puts them on her back and she can breathe the air through the pipes.”
“A lot of people don’t rate the North Sea as a dive-site. I like it here because you’re not surrounded by holidaymakers making a nuisance of themselves. The water looks muddy but it’s clearer further down. Worse after a storm, of course.” “What is there to see?” “Some good wrecks. Most from the Second World War. A few fishing boats.” When her gaze fell on Ella’s terrified face, her expression softened. “Wrecks are good for the ocean. Fish like them. They make good habitats.” Jacob looked dubiously round at the little boat and wondered how Mrs Armitage could possibly row out far enough to find a shipwreck. “I have another boat,” she said, as if she could read his thoughts. “Bigger than this one. I just use this for pottering around the coast where the water’s shallow.” “Where’s your other boat?” Ella looked around as if it might be hidden under the thwarts. “At the marina, just along the coast from the beach where I’m taking you. You can ask your parents to take you there if you want.” “No, thank you,” Ella whispered. “Ella’s scared of the water,” said Jacob. “No she isn’t. She’s scared of drowning. That’s only common sense. That’s why you have to learn not to drown.” She rested the oars on the rowlocks to catch her breath again. The boat slowed to a rocking, unstable halt. When he looked behind him, Jacob saw the shoreline of another cove, close enough to make out the dogs and people roaming around on it, but too far to swim. Was Mrs Armitage strong enough to get them back to the shore? Was she willing to? Was she even sane? “How about I row for a bit and you –” “No!” Mrs Armitage’s bark shocked him into instant stillness, frozen foolishly in the act of rising from his seat. “Sit still. I told you, we’re too low in the water. If you start wandering around you’ll tip it. Sit back down. Slowly.” Jacob sat back down. “That’s better. So. Why did your parents buy a house that gets more worthless with every year that passes?” “I think it’s what they could afford,” said Jacob, shocked into honesty. Mrs Armitage laughed. “It’s not a bad place to live. Quiet in the winter, but some people prefer that. Not so good for teenagers, of course.” She rested the oars once more. “The tide will carry us in now.” “See, Ella?” Jacob smiled encouragingly. Ella rewarded him with a small stretching of her rosebud mouth. “Nearly there.” Another few strokes. Another break. How deep was the water now? Jacob willed himself to sit still and wait. Mrs Armitage peered down into the water, frowned, rowed another few strokes. “Right, that’ll have to do. Sit tight. Don’t try to get out until I say.” In a slither of neoprene, she slipped over the side and stood thigh-deep in water. “There’s a shelf in the bottom just here, so be careful.” She held Ella as Jacob clambered awkwardly over the side. The water came well above his knees, but when he took a step towards the shore it was just as Mrs Armitage said: a sudden shelf that dropped the water level from his thighs to his calves. “There’s a path at the top of the beach,” Mrs Armitage told him. “It takes you along the cliff to the end of your garden.” She turned her gaze towards Ella. “It goes right past my house, so you could use it to visit me, if you liked. Or you can walk back through the village if you prefer. That takes longer.” “Thanks.” “I’m sorry your house is going to fall into the sea,” said Ella. “Why?” “Because then you won’t have your house any more.” “Then I’ll live in the sea where I belong,” said Mrs Armitage. “Thanks,” Jacob said again, unsure of what else to say.
With Ella in his arms, he began the slow wade back to shore. When Ella’s feet touched the sand, he felt her let out a long breath of relief. “She can turn into a seal,” Ella said to Jacob. “No, she can’t.” “I wish I could turn into a seal.” And then, all in a rush, “Last night I was asleep and I thought the house was falling into the sea and we were falling through the water, and there was an old broken boat and some fish were going to eat our eyes and a crab was going to walk over our skulls.” “Is that why you were so scared? Oh, Ella.” “Is that going to happen one day?” “No, of course it isn’t, that was just a nightmare. Why didn’t you go and get Mum?” “It’s dark on the way to their room.” He sighed. “I tell you what. If you have that dream again, then come and get me. Don’t wake me up or anything,” he added hastily. “But if you’re really scared, you can get in bed with me for a bit. As long as you lie still and don’t wriggle. And you won’t need to be afraid, ever, because we’ll be together.” “Even if the sea comes?” “Even if the sea comes. I promise. Do you want to wave goodbye?” They turned to face the sea and saw that Mrs Armitage was still standing in the water, one hand on her boat, watching them.

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The Author:

Cassandra Parkin grew up in Hull, and now lives in East Yorkshire. Her short story collection, New World Fairy Tales (Salt Publishing, 2011) won the Scott Prize for Short Stories. Cassandra’s writing has been published in numerous magazines and anthologies. Follow Cassandra on Twitter @ cassandrajaneuk

Reviews…..

‘A dark, powerful and emotional novel with hauntingly beautiful prose. It will compel you to read on even as it sends chills up your spine’ Nicola Moriarty

‘This is a glorious, emotional novel about who we really are, where we belong in the world, and how truly at mercy we are to the events that shape us. I can’t recommend it enough’ Louise Beech

Other books by the author:

The Summer We All Ran Away (2013)

The Beach House (2015)

Lily’s House (2016)

The Winter’s Child (2017)

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