Indie Award time

 Checked my e-mails for the last time today and was richly rewarded by two reviews from the Historical Novel Society Review section. I sent off both titles earlier in the year - The Craigsmuir Affair and The Magician's Bride. One of them has done rather well and earned itself an Editor's Choice award which means it joins the long list for the 2017 Indie Award.

I can't begin to say how pleased I am. It's been a long struggle to get some recognition for Daisy and Adam and I have put a lot of work into it since I first sent the story off to an agent in 2009. The first response by phone was that it wasn't "quite there" and alterations only collected the words "didn't make my heart sing" on the bottom of the returned submission. I left it alone for a good couple of years, but always with the intention of going back to it. I'll be pasting the actual review on Facebook and Twitter over the next few days.

The Magician's Bride was favourably reviewed but did not make the Editor's Choice. Still, the review for that will be posted too - it is nothing to hide away! The reviewer was not keen on the cover and I have to say I never actually fell in love with it myself , but because I paid money for it and it is at a level of graphic artistry that I may not be able to match, I sent it out there to fend for itself. I'll have to see if I can't make something more suitable.

A little PR

Here’s an excerpt from my new book due out on 20^th July. For a long time this went under the working title of Daisy's Story, but now it has gone grown up with a proper title. It is available for review; please contact me via this blog or e-mail at jenblackNCL@gmail.com.

Adam reached out, grasped her shoulders and dropped a kiss on her forehead. Looking at him, she could think of nothing to say; nor could she break the spell with movement. He stood so close she was aware of his warmth and the faint tang of shaving soap. His gaze held her still. She forgot to breathe.

Slowly, without haste, he set his lips to hers.

His mouth was cool and surprisingly gentle. Aware of a pulse thudding in her throat, she did not move and made no sound as his lips moulded and teased hers. Through almost closed eyes she observed his lashes, so dark and long. His head tilted. His mouth claimed more of her. She sank deeper into the kiss.

Adam pulled back with a groan of distress. ‘Oh God, I’m sorry, Daisy. That was unforgivable….’ One hand flailed the air in a gesture she interpreted as distress. ‘I should not have….’ He turned away, palms clasped and held close to his mouth. ‘Please forgive me.’

At first Daisy could not speak. The separation was too sudden. Her fingertips went to her warm lips. What had displeased him? Had she not reciprocated in the correct way? ‘Please do not spoil it,’ she said, her voice wavering. ‘I expect I shall treasure it as my first grown-up kiss.’

‘I doubt it,’ he said dryly, staring at her hungrily.

She ought to be shocked, but felt nothing of the sort. Instead an odd sense of unsuspected power trickled through her veins. Now she knew what a kiss could be and wished it had gone on longer. Obviously he had done it against his better judgement and that of itself was exciting. If it had happened once, she could make it happen again.

She saw how deeply he frowned and wondered at it. ‘Do not worry. I shall not tell anyone. The kiss shall be my secret.’

‘That is hardly the point, is it? I should never have allowed myself to kiss you.’

She shrugged. ‘But you did. And I enjoyed it.’ She knew she should not make such an admission, but wanted to whirl and dance around the room in sheer happiness.

His mouth flattened in displeasure. ‘Why is it that with you….’

She allowed a pause to develop and then said, ‘Go on.’

He shook his head. ‘I should go,’ he said stiffly. ‘You were right. I should not have brought you in here. Will you excuse me?’

‘No,’ she said calmly, tempted to laugh at his alarmed expression. For once, Daisy felt older than her years and in control. It was a heady feeling. Remembering her conversation with Vicky in the Long Gallery at Clennell, she spoke softly. ‘I can only think you are wary of women because one of my sex has treated you badly. If that is the case, I shall let the subject go as it is none of my business.’

His head went back as if she had slapped him.

He glared at her. Daisy licked suddenly dry lips. How could she have been so crass as to mention his past history? Anxious to get the conversation back on mundane matters, she said ‘You brought me here to talk of theft. Do you think, as I do, that Maitland has taken the money as well as a painting?’

The CRAIGSMUIR AFFAIR, published 20^th July on Amazon kindle.

Hot weather

The hot weather goes on. Yesterday there was a breeze, which made it much more pleasant to be out and about. The storms that were forecast for today have now moved back to the coming Thursday. All the hay has been cut, dried, turned and baled so now we have 17 bales taller than me in the field, and we can walk around the perimeter without fearing that we are doing damage. Tim loves it - all those new smells to investigate. I love it for that reason and also because my hay fever has vanished as if it had never been.

Rafa couldn't do it, Andy couldn't do it, so it's all down to Stan Wawrinka this afternoon. I hope he can succeed. Until then, I'll be checking The CRAIGSMUIR AFFAIR  one last time.

Hot Days

The time is 7 55am and I'm sitting here writing my blog with all the windows and doors open and the sun is beating down. Goodness knows what the outside temperature got up to yesterday - we stayed indoors where the living room temperature rose to 26 degrees C. This morning it is 22 degrees. Consider that when we arrived it was 16-17 degrees....and that the mill has three foot thick stone walls. Wi Fi is only available in the living room, (or downstairs in the mill room) because the walls are too thick. Evidently the floor is not quite so strong!

The farmers work early, knock off in the middle of the day and start again about seven in the evening and yesterday they had my sympathy because it was still too hot to sit out even then. I felt some sympathy for the tennis players, too. Though I have to say that Serena gave a most convincing display of being about to faint away until she needed to hit a convincing shot and then all her reflexes kicked in and the most complicated shot was executed with ease.

I have been diligently working away for a couple of hours every morning on The CRAIGSMUIR AFFAIR and have reached the last stages of publication via Kindle. Things appear to be going well and as long as the Table of Contents comes up as I expect, then I'm done. Publication Day is the 20th July.

Pre-Orders

Something I'm trying for the first time with THE CRAIGSMUIR AFFAIR - pre-order at Amazon.
I've set a date and loaded the cover. I've been given a date by which I must load all info, which is fair enough. Now I'll wait and see when and where it is listed - if it is!

Astonishingly, we haven't begun packing yet. It looks like it is going to be the usual last minute dash, but that's all part of the fun. Before we set off on the journey south I shall have to give Tim a good walk so he'll sleep until we get a good way down the country. That means getting up very early, but that's OK too, as we're usually alert and awake well before normal time when there's a big trip in the offing.

I'm trying to ensure that I have everything I want loaded onto my laptop so that I can continue to proofread while I'm in France. Disaster if I forget anything! Tennis is distracting me right now. It's the Madrid Open Final tonight and it is between Andy and Nadal. Finally, Rafa seems to be back on track, so I think I shall splurge £6.99 and pay for 24 hours viewing so I can watch the match. If I were to stay in England it would be better value to pay for a month but that's OK. The price is considerably cheaper than paying to visit the venue!

Spring is a lovely time to visit England - so many shades of green to enjoy. The froth of white in the pic is the mass of garlic flowers that have opened up in the last week. The bluebells are out too, in the shadier places.

THE CRAIGSMUIR AFFAIR

France beckons and as usual I'm stuck between the laptop and the desk PC. I must make sure everything I'll need is on the laptop otherwise I'm sunk. I had fond hopes of having The Craigsmuir Affair published before I went, but that is not going to happen. Only chapter one has been finally proofread, and even then I made changes!

We've been very social this week, with a trip to Dent on Wednesday and a dinner dance last night at the Hilton Hotel on the river at Newcastle. Evening went off fine except that conversation was impossible once the band started up and we left with our ears ringing. Why do they have to be so loud? I gather it is expected  nowadays, but fear that there will be a generation of people who go deaf before they are forty years old.

Unless I have a change of heart (and I doubt it very much) this will be the cover for THE CRAIGSMUIR AFFAIR.

The Craigsmuir Affair

A busy week over - appointments made and kept with Dentist, Optician, Medical practice and we've had the kitchen re-vinyled, and the living room and stair-plus-landing re-carpeted. We're looking spick and span, smell of new carpets and we're good for another twenty years now.

With the help of my friends in the critique group I've finally hit on a title for my story about Daisy - wait for it - THE CRAIGSMUIR AFFAIR.
Here's the first page to hopefully whet your appetite:

Setting and period: Clennell Castle, Northumberland, 1893

Daisy Charlton swept the sheaf of papers into her arms, cast a final glance around the small room that had been her work place for the last week and then closed the door behind her. She hurried along the gallery toward the stairs, swung one-handed around the newel post and scampered down the first steps to the main body of the library.

Someone below snapped a newspaper straight.

Diverted, she looked down. Sun-browned hands held the newspaper open in such a way that she could see nothing of him but legs clad in riding breeches and knee-high brown leather boots. Her feet tangled in the folds of her long skirt. Her stomach lurched, she stumbled, missed the shallow tread of the stair and turned her ankle on the edge of the next.

‘No-o-o!’

She grabbed for the banister, missed and pitched forward. Her precious papers sprang into the air and fluttered around her like a cloud of newly released doves. As her hip and shoulder collided with the shallow tread of the stairs, Daisy yelped, bounced and rolled down the stairs.

‘Good God!’ The sound of crushed newspaper followed the exclamation.

Daisy struck hard, was caught and held. Dazed, she inhaled the mixed scents of smoky sandalwood, starched linen and something spicy like black pepper. A steady, rhythmic thud sounded in her ear. When she opened her eyes, the pin tucks of her white blouse pressed against the fawn moleskin of a gentleman’s waistcoat. Her right hand clutched the rough tweed of his sleeve. Her left, trapped behind her, trailed on the parquet floor.

She drew a deep, shivery breath. The pressure of his hand on her ribcage increased and his upraised knee held her spine at an awkward angle. Uncomfortable and embarrassed, Daisy nudged the pale silk of his cravat with her head. ‘I cannot move.’

‘I beg your pardon.’ His voice was deep and warm. ‘But if I let go, you will fall to the floor.’

She tilted her head and frowned at the lean, handsome face above her. To struggle free would be undignified. ‘I do not know you, sir. What if someone were to come into the library and find us like this?’

‘I suppose I should have to marry you.’ His smile held mischief. ‘Are you sure you have no injuries?’

‘Until you release me I cannot tell.’ The words came out more snappishly than she intended. Heat rose in her cheeks; she bit her lip. For Heaven’s sake! He would think her an idiot, probably laughed at her, but was too kind to show it.

He raised both hands in the air.

As he had predicted, Daisy slid from his upraised knee to the floor. She landed with an undignified grunt.