Freda Lightfoot

Our Caribbean Cruise

2012-02-03T11:50:00.006Z

We treated ourselves to a fabulous Caribbean cruise this Christmas on the Emerald Princess, which I must say was wonderful. Here she is, looking very grand.

We sailed from Fort Lauderdale on a lovely sunny day in mid December and our first stop off was at Princess Cays where we relaxed on the beach and enjoyed a barbecue.

The iguana is enjoying the sun as much as us.

Our next island was St. Thomas. Here we visited St. Peter Great House and gardens where there are 150 species of Caribbean plants. The island was named by Christopher Columbus in 1493, and later Sir Francis Drake used to lie in wait for Spanish treasure ships in the quiet waters of Magens Bay. Blackbeard and Captain Kidd also used this as a safe harbour.

Dominica was lovely, very natural, where we enjoyed a visit to a waterfall, saw a huge banyan tree in the botanical gardens, and a bus that had been flattened in a typhoon. Glad it wasn’t ours.

One of our favourite islands was Grenada where we visited a spice estate. The guy in the picture is moving the cocoa beans in order to help them dry out. We were shown how nutmeg and mace were produced, and later visited the distribution centre.

Did you know that loofahs grow on trees? No, neither did I, but apparently they do.

On Bonaire, part of the Dutch Antilles, we went out on a glass bottomed boat to look at the fishes and coral. We even saw a great big sting ray. Amazing! And this Pirates of the Caribbean type ship.

Our last excursion was Christmas Day where we visited a butterfly farm on Aruba. I loved the butterflies, which were huge and brightly coloured. The pair the woman is holding were mating. Well, it has to be done somehow.

And this is an owl butterfly, named for its markings.

And another pretty one.

I bought some face cream at an aloe vera factory, of course, and learned something about the medicinal properties of this plant, which I do grow in my Spanish garden. Very interesting, and useful for sting relief. Just slice the spikes off the leaf first, then peel back the green part to reach the sappy bit. Rub that on the sting and you’ll feel much better. There’s also a lovely shopping centre on Aruba, but as it was Christmas Day, it was closed.

There was plenty of entertainment on board, including a brilliant tribute band, the Beatle Maniacs, who were superb. Lots of excellent dining, dancing, music and shows, and plenty of excuses to dress up. Great fun! And you can watch the movie while you swim.

We shall certainly be cruising again.

Three Kings Day

2012-01-06T09:07:00.000Z

Traditionally, Spanish children do not get their presents on Christmas Day from Santa Claus, or Papa Noel, as he is called. They have to wait until the Fiesta de Los Reyes. What we would call Epiphany. By now we’re packing our Christmas decorations away, but the Spanish are still partying.

In the run up to the 6th of January, children can meet the wise men at some department stores and tell them what they would like for Christmas, just as our children tell Santa Claus. On the 5th, the excitement starts in the late afternoon or early evening. Locally, the three kings: Melchor, Gazpar and Baltasar, arrive by sea at Garrucha in the evening, then parade through the streets and throw sweets into the watching crowds. A custom that no doubt started in Moorish times.

A whole procession of dancers and musicians, trailers and even floats, will follow. Children run around with their little bags catching their gifts. It is truly a sight to see. The little girls dress up in their flamenco dresses, little boys as kings, drummers or shepherd boys. And the shops remain open until after midnight.

Before going to bed the children leave their shoes on the door step so that the Kings will know who to leave presents for. And just as British children leave a mince pie and a drink for Santa and his reindeer, Spanish children also put out something to eat and drink for Melchor, Gaspar, and Baltazar, and water and grass for their camels. Well they do have a lot of work to do that night.

The children wake in great excitement the next morning to find their presents. The 6th itself is fiesta day when there are often medieval fairs held, and celebrations of all kinds. Great fun for all the family.

A play is held in the town square which tells the story of Herod ordering his roman soldiers to seek out this new king which has been born.

There are stalls selling trinkets, toys, food and other goodies.

You can see potters and craftsmen going about their work. There are donkeys, geese and turkeys on display, giving a real biblical feel to the fair.

Next come musicians, jugglers and jokers with games for the children to play on this special day. Always lots of sweets and fun for the children.

The medieval fool helps the children act out a pay with a dragon, knights and moors. All to rescue a princess, of course. Very like the mummer's play we do in the UK.

After lunch, families eat the typical dessert of the day, the ‘Roscón de los Reyes’. This is a large ring shaped cake or sweet bread that is decorated with candied fruits, symbolic of the emeralds and rubies that adorned the robes of the three kings, sometimes a gold paper crown is often provided to decorate the cake. Hidden inside it are surprises ‘sorpresas’. The one who finds the lucky prize is King or Queen for the day while he who ends up with the unlucky bean is expected to pay for next years Kings’ Cake – and they are not cheap!

January 7 is a very quiet day in Spain. No businesses open, everyone at home in recovery.

Happy Three King's Day everyone.

A Most Memorable Fijian Christmas

2011-12-10T16:57:00.001Z

How do you fancy being woken on Christmas morning with a slice of Christmas cake, brought to you by the maid? All right, it was only 7.20 a.m. and our thanks may have been somewhat muted, but the sun was shining, the temperature outside was already over 20 degrees and we happily drifted back to sleep. I believe carol singers came round at 8 but we never heard them.

We were in Fiji, stopping off for a three day Christmas break on our way back from exploring New Zealand, and loving every minute of it.

On Christmas Eve we’d been entertained by a Fijian steel band, a fire dancing ceremony, and a group of school children singing I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas, which somehow seemed unlikely.

We spent Christmas Day relaxing by the pool and walking on the white sandy beach, gazing out at an impossibly blue Pacific ocean. After exchanging our gifts over a glass of wine in our burra, (a classy sort of cabin set right on the beach), we put on our best togs and went into dinner.

The choice of food was mind boggling, meant to cater for every nationality or taste. Here we enjoying the champers while waiting to be served.

But the highlight of the evening was a rendition of Grease put on by the staff. I’ve never seen anything so funny. They entered into the spirit of it wonderfully, miming the words, and singing and dancing with great gusto. Sandra’s blond wig atop a beautiful black face struck a delightfully incongruous note. And the young male waiters who did the car scene were seriously gorgeous! They really hammed it up wonderfully. Great fun!

Next came a fire dance, and after that, the disco,

Then we went to ring our daughter back home in the UK. We couldn’t get through but were more successful on Boxing Day morning. ‘Happy Birthday,’ I said, since that’s what it was. ‘Oh, is it tomorrow there,’ she said, delighted we’d rung. ‘It’s still today here.’

It’s a strange feeling to have crossed the date line, but a wonderful Christmas escape.

This year we’re off on a Caribbean cruise. I’ll tell you all about that when I get back.

First olive picking of 2011

2011-11-24T15:12:00.001Z

A lovely November day, our friends gathered to help and we enjoyed a pleasant day picking olives. It’s a steady job, and no, we don’t grab hold of the tree and shake it, although I know the big machines do that in the large olive groves.

Fortunately, we only have 30 trees, some more productive than others, so we comb them off with our hands. The big fat ones are always just out of reach, even after you’ve climbed the ladder.

We picked 145 kilos which produced 23 litres of extra virgin olive oil. Not a bad start. There are plenty more on the trees, not yet quite ripe, and we now have rain, so they’ll have to wait.

We paused for a substantial lunch of chilli and fruit crumble, washed down with plenty of wine. Those still sufficiently sober continued picking into the late afternoon, after which we loaded up the sacks and took them to our local cooperativa.

Jess keeps an eye on us to check we do the job properly.

Here's the crop all ready to go. Not a particular good one this year due to a dry spring. But there are still more olives yet to ripen.

       David backs up to the weighing platform.


      Tony helps him to unload and tip the olives out into the press.

Here the crop is being taken up the conveyor belt.

Our olives are tested in the office for the correct level of acidity.

A lorry comes next and starts to unload.

He has a much bigger crop than us.

Some interesting facts about olive oil:

Olive oil will soon become rancid in the light and heat. Buy the best quality extra virgin olive oil and store in dark tinted bottles in a cool cupboard.

Olives were first grown in Crete between 5 and 7 thousand years ago.

There are about 700 cultivated varieties of olives. Wild ones are much smaller.

The tastes can vary from peppery to nutty, grassy or like green apples.

It can provide food, fuel, timber and medicine, and is a preservative.

You can use it as a furniture polish. Mix 2 tablespoons olive oil with 1 tablespoon lemon juice or white vinegar. Place in a spray bottle, shake well. Spray furniture lightly. Wipe off with a clean cloth or kitchen roll.

Olive oil has about 120 calories per tablespoon but unlike other cooking oils it is rich in vitamins A and E, and actually good for you.

It is a staple in the Mediterranean diet, and known to reduce the risk of heart disease. It is mono unsaturated, rich in vitamins, iron, oleic acid, sodium and potassium, and can improve circulation and lower blood pressure.

Olive oil has many other health giving properties. It is good for the digestion, helps to lower blood sugar levels, and can even be used to relieve the pain of burns, itches, stings and insect bites.

Best of all, olive oil encourages cellular growth, helps healing and slows down the aging process.

Olive oil as a beauty aid:

For dry and brittle hair
After shampooing, rinse your hair with a mix of half a cup of olive oil and beaten egg. Leave on for 15 minutes covered with a plastic cap before rinsing clean.

Hair conditioner
Warm half a cup of olive oil and apply liberally to your hair. Wrap in a towel for 30 minutes, then shampoo and rinse thoroughly.

Facial
Add 1 tablespoon of olive oil to 2 tablespoons fresh cream. Smooth on the face and leave for 10 minutes. Wash your face with warm water.

Brittle nails
Soak your nails in a small bowl of warm olive oil with a squeeze of lemon or rose water, to add a nice scent.

Olive oil is also good for softening hands and feet, moisturising cuticles, removing mascara and eye liner, or mix with a touch of lavender essential essence and add to your bath water. It can be used in place of shaving cream, will clear up acne (add 4 tablespoons of salt to 3 tablespoons of olive oil), and even loosen chewing gum from hair.

Olive oil is a miracle product provided for us by nature.

Book collecting on a Budget

2011-11-04T08:00:00.000Z

A while ago I was clearing out my loft when I came across some old Enid Blyton books I had enjoyed as a child. Needless to say, the clearing out went to pot and I spent the rest of the morning in happy pursuit of childhood pleasures. Since then I have begun to collect secondhand books, finding them in unexpected and fascinating places.

What makes book collecting exciting is that you don't have to be an expert seeking rare specimens. You can have just as much fun buying cheap paperbacks. And bookaholics like myself still love to do that, even in this age of the Kindle and ebooks.

The first thing to do is choose your area of interest. It might be a particular subject such as the countryside, biographies, old cookery books or you may be a local history buff and collect books on your own region. I seem to be currently obsessed with books about the theatre, eighteenth century actresses and courtesans. I’ve no idea why but I just love reading about them.

Is there a particular author that you love? Find one who has a number of books to their credit to make them more interesting to collect, but it doesn't matter whether it's Agatha Christie, Lee Child or Georgette Heyer, so long as you like them. Or perhaps you wish to collect a certain type of fiction such as thrillers or romantic novels.

Old magazines are also fascinating. Maybe you love nostalgia and would enjoy collecting nursery or children's books. You can do this not only by author, but also by illustrator, period or by age group. Don't neglect the more modern or mundane classifications of books such as those connected with TV series, films or a much-loved character. Remember that today's books and magazines are tomorrow's collectors items.

Market stalls are an obvious starting point, but try also charity shops such as Oxfam, Red Cross and Help the Aged, who often have shelves of cheaply priced books, and you have the added pleasure of helping them every time you buy anything. Rummage sales are another rich source where you can often pick up real treasures at remarkably low prices. Try secondhand bookshops by all means, and any local book fairs, but set your sights low, at least until you know your material; expensive antiquarian bookshops are for the affluent.

Once you start looking, you'll be surprised just how many places have cheap collectable books. Get into the habit of going regularly, and you'll be on hand when something exciting turns up.

Don't be shy about asking relatives or friends. They may have just what you want tucked away in their attic or garage. Often they're glad of a chance to have a clear out and are pleased to see the books go to someone who will appreciate them. House sales or auctions often sell whole boxes of books for a pittance and you can have a lovely browse through them at home before selling the ones you don't want back to a market stall holder.

Having got into the swing of your collection, you will soon want to know more about your chosen subject. Collect all the information you can find on it. Newspaper and magazine cuttings are a good source as well as the internet. Keep a record of what you’ve bought, and how much you paid.

What should you look for when buying a book? How do you know if it's worth the price? What sort of condition should it be in? All these questions may puzzle the beginner, but they needn't. The question of price is the easiest to answer: as little as possible. At rummage sales you can pick up copies for a few pence, but the condition will be variable. At charity shops you may pay a little more but the condition will be better. In the trade there are various descriptions known as standard book conditions for grading secondhand books. Mint means that a book is perfect, complete with dust jacket and indistinguishable from a new copy. Fine means that it has a dust jacket and is in excellent condition but has clearly been read. A very good book may have no dust jacket or a faded cover, and one that is classed only as good will show definite signs of use but will be complete, with no pages missing. Finally, the book in poor condition may be warped, show signs of damp or mildew damage to the spine. It should nevertheless be a complete copy even if the title page is missing. If it is foxed, it will have brown stains, often caused by age.

Don't be put off buying a book simply because it is in poor condition. It may be more valuable than it at first appears, particularly if it has some good illustrations. Ladybird books are a good example, since the early editions are very collectable. But even if it has no great value other than as a reading copy, there is a good deal of pleasure to be derived from this alone. Times can change the situation if finer copies become rare. Collectors on a tight budget shouldn't worry about looking for first editions or mint copies. Buy what you fancy. Try for a good copy, but if you find a title you want in poor condition, pay less.

Books are going to become even more rare in this digital age, so start collecting now.

There is always the possibility that you might find something really valuable. A friend of mine once discovered an old copy of Peter Rabbit, autographed by Beatrix Potter herself.

Corsets, Whalebones and Waist-whittlers

2011-10-21T08:00:00.000+01:00

‘A Corset is of sterling worth in aiding and beautifying the figure.’

Have you ever considered a corset as a status symbol; a means of class distinction? Surprising as it may seem the corset once ranked high among the status symbols of our forefathers, or mothers, as the case may be. The woman who could not stoop to retrieve her fallen fan, could exert herself sufficiently to tinkle a handbell for her maidservant who, uncorseted, or at least should be if she wanted to keep her position, could retrieve it for her.

The corset has of course other functions. Its main one being to support and mould the figure into the shape dictated by the fashion of the day. It has always had its erotic associations, making the wearer feel attractive and feminine and no doubt decidedly uncomfortable.

We first hear of the corset in early Mediaeval England, when the Monks wrote of the evils of tight lacing and bustling, saying that it caused deformity. They failed to stamp out this pernicious habit for by the sixteenth century the corset was an accepted part of a lady’s wardrobe. It was made of stiff leather, wood or even iron supports, with large semi-circular side pieces laced on. The stomacher, a flat placard, was fastened to the front and pulled tightly in at the waist, leaving the hips free. Elizabeth I pioneered the use of whalebones in corsets, but as ever, this wily Queen was motivated mainly by economic reasons.

By the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, corsets were even worn in the nursery. A lady of quality along with her young daughters, wore a ‘pair of bodies’ stiffened with busks of wood or whalebone with back lacing, the lower part open to ride over the hips.

During the Regency period when clinging, neo-Grecian lines were the mode, the corset fell from favour. Undeterred, the corset makers turned their attention to the male of the species who was at that time preening himself unashamedly. The ‘dandies’ took to the ‘Cumberland Corset’ or the ‘Brummell Bodice’. Even the Prince Regent laced himself into stays and the less kind among his contemporaries considered him to be in need of such support.

It was the Victorian era, however, which saw the corset fashion at its height. The waist reverted to its normal position and tight lacing was once more evident. There is no doubt that much of the ill health and fainting fits of the time were attributed to this. Young girls considered it desirable to marry with age and waist measurements the same - preferably less than twenty-one. A lady of fashion might even have ribs removed to achieve the desired effect and on no account would she be seen without her corset, even in bed.

Metal eye-holes and india-rubber came to be used during the Industrial Revolution and in 1860, elastic panels were introduced. As skirts tightened in the 1870’s so the corset lengthened and here we see the birth of the suspender. The naughty 1990’s saw a devastating array of frills, laces, bows and paint box colours, the most popular being cardinal red and canary yellow, hidden beneath a starched Victorian facade. There were dual purpose corsets with chemise tops which could be used for day and evening wear, in black, white or cardinal silk coutille.

At the turn of the century came the so-called health corset which flattened the stomach, thrusting the bosom forward and the hips back thus creating the mature, solid S-shape. Advertisements emphasised the beneficial effects of these corsets in relieving the hips of the weight of the skirt and preventing stooping. Shoulder braces were also available for wearing over the corset. Well encased, the Victorian mama and her daughter would be quite incapable of stooping.

There were corsets for every occasion. Cycling was becoming fashionable and a special cyclist’s corset with elastic sides was produced. A writer commenting in a shopping guide of a woman’s magazine of 1894 shows the attitude of the day on the wearing of corsets when she says ‘I wish fat people could be persuaded to wear them for tennis.’

In 1902 came the unbreakable corsets with triple steel busks, and in 1903 the featherbone which was composed of quill fibre and claimed to replace old-fashioned whalebone. The ‘solo’ corset of 1905 introduced invisible lacing which could be adjusted by the wearer at the pull of a string. At this time too appeared the reducing corset with an elastic abdominal belt.

After the great war things were never the same again. The boy look of the 1920s brought in the use of ‘flatteneds’, a sheath-like garment which fitted from armpits to thighs and dispelled any shape whatsoever.

In the 1930s came the ‘two-way stretch’ reminding women once more of the comfort and grace of being natural. In the summer of 1939 the corset almost made a comeback, for waists were nipped in and advertisers promised laced up corsets made from the newest materials. The second world war ended this fashion abruptly; women had to work and working women have no time for the restrictions of tight lacing.

Since the war the move has been towards an even greater freedom. The use of nylon and Lycra and the fashion for young, natural lines have released women from a bondage most of us have no wish to see return.

How to create suspense

2011-10-06T15:54:00.002+01:00

At its most basic, suspense is the art of the reader knowing more than the main character does.
E.g the famous shower scene in Psycho. Sometimes the reverse is true and withholding information can also be effective. A character may receive a letter or phone call, giving vital information to the protagonist but not the reader. Choosing the right moment to give in to the reader’s need-to-know is a skill you develop with practise. Too soon and the reader is disappointed, too late and she grows bored and irritated. It’s a useful ploy to have presented a second problem before resolving the first.

Here are some other techniques you can use to add suspense in all types of fiction.

Cut:
Cutting to another character or situation. This keeps the reader guessing and hopefully breathless with anticipation as they are taken to another part of the story. From time to time you can remind them of what they are still waiting to learn, or take them back and give them a snippet more to wet their appetite. Increase the suspense before you deliver. Milk a scene without slowing the story down.

Fear of the unknown:

Uncertainty of outcome helps to create tension and fear. In THE QUEEN AND THE COURTESAN Henriette d’Entragues was terrified when Henry IV had her arrested. Would she be tortured, or even lose her head? In THE FAVOURITE CHILD, Isabella Ashton became nervous when she suspected Billy Quinn was following her. Did he mean to hurt her or was he simply fascinated by her?

Forewarning and pointers:
These can appear at different points in the book like a promise or threat of dangers which might (or might not) happen. But don’t make these too blatant, or you’ll fall into the trap of the ‘dear reader’ style. Keep the reader guessing. I find that if a twist in the plot occurs to me as I am writing, I often have to go back and put these in.

Red herrings:
These are pointers which deliberately lead nowhere. They too can create real suspense and fear. Common in detective fiction, even in general fiction they can be used to good effect. But don’t lead the reader down too many false trails or the story will lose credibility.

The worsening scenario:

Start with a feeling of unease, a hint that something isn’t quite right, or a person not as pleasant or innocent as they at first appeared. Gradually the menace builds and increases to develop a sense of dread, finally panic or terror. I used this to great effect in TRAPPED, where the wife is subject to a bullying and controlling husband. False hope: The character believes all is well. The reader thinks otherwise. Who is right?

Mental ordeal:
An overwrought imagination can make a nightmare out of a crisis. The viewpoint character’s turmoil and emotion can add atmosphere to a story through their mental anguish. This may cause her to imagine things that aren’t actually happening to her. She might think she is being followed, or see someone she thought was dead. It might be real, it might not. Her fears may erupt into dreams, delusions or hallucinations.

Failed communication and unexplained happenings:
A letter not delivered. Secrets withheld. THE PROMISE is based on a family secret. Chrissie wants to know why her mother’s name was changed? Why she never met her grandmother. There must be a strong motivation why a secret is withheld and not just to keep the reader reading. Deliberate lies are also a good plot device, again with proper motivation. Is her boy friend telling the truth about where he was last night? Can she trust him? Who-how-why was her kitchen ransacked when she’s certain she bolted every door and window? No one will believe there’s anything wrong because the body has vanished.

Pursuit:
She is being pursued and there must be a real danger of her getting caught. Does she know who by? Establish the motivation of why she is being pursued, how she is trying to escape, and what stakes are involved besides her own safety. Whether or not she will succeed must always be in doubt until the conclusion.

Immediacy:
Give her only a limited time in which to achieve her goal. This is a device usually piled on top of the original quest, and makes for an even more compulsive story.

Surprise and shock:
Surprise is a very effective weapon. Sometimes it is useful to practise a little sleight of hand, leading the reader along one path and then hitting them from another direction. It must be logical though, even if it is not what they expected to hear. Perhaps they didn’t notice an earlier clue you carefully disguised as a red herring. Twists and turns of the plot keep the reader guessing. Don’t fully explain something, disguise or withhold the whole truth, but don’t overdo this or you might irritate and confuse. Agatha Christie was a master at this device.

Horror:

This can be useful in all types of fiction, including romantic. I’ve written some pretty gruesome scenes in some of my own sagas, including the opening scene in HOUSE OF ANGELS when Livia is being beaten by her father. Judge the degree of horror that is right for the story, according to the genre you are writing. Make sure it is essential and not gratuitous. It should have a genuine purpose in the plot, and be properly woven into the story or the reader might skip it.

Atmosphere:
Gothic type atmospherics are not so popular these days and don’t usually work as well in print as in film, but you should and must appeal to the senses. The weather, the place, the time of day or night, smells, textures, sounds can all evoke a sense of doom or fear. Try to appeal to the reader’s imagination but don’t overdo it or you might tip it into farce. Remember the atmosphere can serve as a contrast to the protagonist’s mood or emotion.

New out this month:
THE PROMISE
ISBN 9780749008291
Allison & Busby
26 September
Hardback 19.99

Chrissie Kemp visits her grandmother and discovers a shocking family secret. Georgia Briscoe is in love with British sailor Ellis Cowper but unwillingly betrothed to Drew Kemp, a businessman mired in the San Francisco underworld. Georgia plans escape to be with the man she loves, but then comes the earthquake…

For more details click here:

THE QUEEN AND THE COURTESAN
ISBN 978-0727880925
Severn House
29 September
Hardback 19.99

Henry IV marries Marie de Medici to provide riches for France. But Henriette d’Entragues has a written promise of marriage and intends to declare the royal marriage illegal. All she has to do is give Henry a son, and by means of intrigue and conspiracy, set him on the throne.

For more details click here:

Latest News

2011-09-19T16:37:00.002+01:00

I can’t believe that summer is almost over. We set up our new little holiday home here in Southport back in May with lots of summer trips planned. Now it is almost time to head south and return home for the winter like migrating birds. We enjoyed some weeks in the early summer back home by our pool, but I’ll admit to relief at being away from the worst of the Spanish heat in late July and August. Instead we’ve been getting out and about and exploring our beloved home county of Lancashire.

We’ve cruised on the Leeds-Liverpool canal along the aqueduct over the River Lune, seen the weird statues by Anthony Gormley at Formby that look like real people staring out the sea.

We’ve enjoyed several trips to the theatre including a marvellous production of As You Like at the Royal Exchange Theatre, Manchester.

Not to mention various visits to the Lakes, Yorkshire, Wales and Cornwall. I could really get to quite enjoy this life style.

And even been to the races at Haydock Park, although sadly we didn’t have a big win.

I’ve attended the RNA conference, the Writers’ Holiday at Caerleon where I led a course in the historical novel, enjoyed several writerly lunches, and caught up with writer friends old and new.

I've done talks at Blackpool library and one for Beck Seniors in Kendal. I also spent a most enjoyable morning at Tarleton Library chatting with the writers' group which meets there every Thursday morning. What a great bunch they are.

Then there are the National Trust properties we’ve visited: Rufford Old Hall, Speke Hall, Sizergh, Tatton Park, Dunham Massey, Lyme Park, used as the setting for the famous adaption of Pride and Prejudice where Mr Darcy rose from the lake. Sadly, no Adonis rising from the lake on the day we visited.

And if you think I’ve been slacking on the writing front, well maybe, just a bit. But I felt I needed some time off after fifteen long years of labour. However, I have not been entirely idle. I’ve put up a few more of my back list as ebooks, which are selling steadily.
Available on Apple, Sony, etc. or you can download them from Amazon:

For All Our Tomorrows and Whispering Shadows are on special offer for the month of September.

I’ve also built a new website, which was another challenge. You can check it out for yourself here and give me your opinion.http://www.fredalightfoot.co.uk

Last but by no means, I have a new saga out:

SAN FRANCISCO 1904
Georgia Briscoe, in love with British sailor Ellis Cowper, is unwillingly betrothed to Drew Kemp. Her husband is mired in the San Francisco underworld, with a penchant for gambling and other women. Georgia plans to escape to be with the man she loves but Drew has other ideas. And then comes the earthquake…

LONDON and THE LAKES, 1948
Chrissie Kemp travels to the Lake District to meet her grandmother for the first time, only to discover a shocking family secret. As the truth unfurls, the passion, emotion and astounding love that blossomed in San Francisco is revealed forty years earlier, and three generations of one family are tested to their limits.

ISBN 9780749008291
Allison & Busby
26 September
Hardback 19.99

Giveaway
I am giving away two signed hardback copies of The Promise.
To enter just go to the Goodies page of my website, or click here to visit Goodreads:

Watch out for a giveaway of my latest historical: The Queen and the Courtesan next month.

Is accuracy important in historical fiction?

2011-08-27T13:06:00.001+01:00

Sebastian Faulks when interviewed on radio 4 described himself as a novelist whose books happen to be set in the past. ‘For me,’ he said, ‘the use of historical settings is to cast the present in a more interesting and broader light.’

People are clearly more important to him than circumstantial detail. Some novels are so deeply researched they seem like non-fiction in disguise. In a romance they can kill the story dead by boring the reader. Even so, we must do our research and set the scene as accurately as we can. We can take some liberties, for the sake of the story, but if we veer too far from the facts as we know them, the reader may feel cheated and lose faith in the work. If a mistake crops up, an anachronism, this will jar the reader, and jerk them out of the story back to the present.

It’s also best also to avoid controversy or anything doubtful which has a hint of being anachronistic. It hasn’t so much to be correct as to feel correct. E.g: Soldiers did play baseball in the American Civil War. I believe they also played in a Jane Austen novel too, but the reader may find that hard to accept.

Societies traditions, moral mores and customs help to build the picture, but this is where even the most fanatical historian can come unstuck. Many time periods, such as the Regency, have become so stylised that you may actually be considered to have written a historically inaccurate book if you do not follow the “popular perceptions” of the period. Presenting a realistic, complex view of Society during a specific era can be the thing that makes the difference between a passable yarn and a gripping story.

Wine and Roses available from Regency Reads

It’s surely about striking the right balance. The story is the most important thing, but it must be firmly rooted in its world. It must not simply be a costume drama. The past must be made as relevant as the present. The problems are the same, human emotion, conflict and behaviour. Falling in love and losing that love are just as painful.
Bernard Cornwell said: ‘Essentially the background has to be right because it’s the detail of the background that pins down the fiction in the foreground.’

It’s a combination of accuracy and imagination to give credibility, create atmosphere, and make the story plausable. The writer needs to incorporate the odd, quirky detail. Perhaps the price of cheese, a housemaid’s monthly wage, a description of underwear, length of time for a journey, breed of horse, how someone would get their boots mended, what book or newspaper they might read. How would they conduct a funeral, spin wool, pluck a hen, fire a rifle, fight a duel or take part in a bare knuckle fight. Whatever is needed for your story.

When I can’t draw on personal experience or memories I use interviews, explore diaries, memoirs, biographies, newspapers, etc. I select with care and don’t put material in just to show off how much I’ve learnt. It is the attention to small detail which builds the atmosphere, and a strong sense of time and place which creates that feeling of reality and verisimilitude which is vital for the reader to sit back and enjoy the ride.

Southport Flower Show

2011-08-19T13:19:00.002+01:00

Had a lovely day out yesterday at Southport Flower Show. Listened to June Francis and Lyn Andrews giving a talk, organised by Pritchards Books. Erica James will be there on Saturday, if there are any of her fans out there.

After that we watched some medieval knights jousting, a dog display team, some birds of prey which were absolutely beautiful, and lastly a most entertaining and skilful performance by two collies rounding up ducks. Great fun.

There were also some wonderful show gardens, flower displays, huge vegetables (do they really taste good?) Here are some gold medal winners.

And where's Dame Edna Everage when you need her?

The show runs till Sunday21st August. I for one will be sure to visit next year too.

Montgomery Castle

2011-08-09T17:11:00.005+01:00

If you're looking for a lovely place for a day out in Wales, try Montgomery. This delightful little town still has the kind of small shops you thought had quite disappeared in this age of supermarkets and big chains. But here they seem to flourish in all their individuality, selling cookery books, crafts, pictures, clothes, and delicious delicacies to tempt the taste buds.

We spent a happy hour exploring the town’s museum, which was rather like the tardis, small and insignificant on the outside but large and fascinating within. Here we could examine tools used by local craftsmen, the bread oven and brewing vat from when the building was once an inn, and upstairs we learned about the local workhouse, the civil war, and other important dates in the history of the town.

High above the town stands Montgomery Castle. The original motte and bailey, known as Hen Domen, was built at the order of Roger de Montgomery, earl of Shrewsbury circa 1071. Robert of Belleme, son of Roger, took part in a revolt in 1077 against William the Conqueror. This rebellion was quickly put down and the participants generously pardoned. As a consequence, William decreed that garrisons be placed in all baronial castles of importance, in order to make future rebellion more difficult.

Robert inherited his mother Mabel’s property when she was killed in 1082, an area which comprised part of the region between Normandy and Maine. It is due to this inheritance that Robert has come be known as of Bellême rather than of Montgomery. William the Conqueror died in 1087 and Robert’s first act on hearing the news was to expel the ducal garrisons from his own castles. By 1102 the castle was in the hands of Baldwin de Boulers, and it is from Baldwin that Montgomery gets its Welsh name, Trefaldwyn (Baldwins town). The de Boulers held the castle until 1215 when the fortress was destroyed by Prince Llywelyn ab Iorwerth.

The rebuilding of Montgomery Castle in stone was commenced circa 1223 slightly to the south-east of the original wooden version. The architect of the new castle was Hubert de Burgh who also rebuilt Skenfrith, Grosmont, and White Castle in the Welsh Marches. From 1223 until 1228 masons built the inner ward, or donjon, on a huge rock overlooking the town of Montgomery. A gatehouse was also built, two towers and a curtain wall, a necessary defence as the castle was subjected to many attacks over the years, battered by various Welsh wars, and in the English civil war in 1643 when Edward Herbert, 1st Baron Herbert of Chirbury, was forced to surrender the castle to Parliamentary troops by order of Parliament.

It is now little more than a ruin, if a stark, atmospheric one, and still worth a visit. You walk across a modern wooden bridge into the inner ward from where you have the most marvellous views of the town and the surrounding countryside. It’s worth the walk for that alone.

I’d be interested to learn if anyone knows why this particular circle of stones is built the way it is. Could it be part of a threshing circle? Or something to do with a former chapel? The pattern does not seem to be accidental. A mystery we may never solve.

Writers´ Holiday

2011-08-01T18:24:00.001+01:00

For anyone feeling a little jaded with their writing and in need of a break, then I can’t recommend Writers’ Holiday highly enough. It takes place at the end of July each year at the Caerleon Campus, University of Wales College, Caerleon, Newport, South Wales.

Personally planned and supervised by Gerry and Anne Hobbs, nothing is too much trouble for them. It runs from Sunday afternoon through to Friday morning, with no less than fourteen courses to choose from. I was leading one on the historical novel in the second half of the week, so in the first part I chose the painting course. I doubt I’ll be putting my picture on my wall but it was great fun to do, and my first effort with acrylics.

The course got off to a lively start with a most entertaining talk by Ray Allen (Some Mothers do 'ave 'em). I’ve heard him before but he never disappoints. On Monday afternoon Julie Cohen told us about her struggles to get published, her writing life, as well as letting us in on many of her writing secrets. She was a generous and lively speaker and I should think everyone would rush out to buy her wonderful books as a result. On Tuesday we listened to Leila and Ali Dewji tell us about their new publishing venture: Acorn Press. For anyone interested in going down the self-publishing route and needs support, they certainly seemed to have the necessary expertise.

Wednesday was excursion day, but I chose to visit the Roman Museum and baths in Caerleon itself, which were pretty impressive. Far bigger than I´d expected, and with such realistic sound effects I half expected to see a Roman diving in. I did, of course, manage to squeeze in a chocolate muffin and cup of tea somewhere along the way.

Here is John Townsend, children´s author, reading one of his delightful poems. I can quite see why children love his books so much. John specialises in writing for special needs.

After tea each day there were several interesting talks to choose from on a wide variety of topics, followed by Tai Chi for the enthusiasts among us.But there´s also plenty of time to share writing experiences, pick up tips, or just sit and chat.

On the last night, Thursday evening, we were royally entertained by the Cwmbach Male Choir, which made my heart soar. What power they possess in those wonderful Welsh voices. Afterwards they repaired to the bar to sing some more. This is only half of them as there were 60 in all.

150 delegates stay in single en-suite accommodation, albeit of the basic student variety, but perfectly adequate, and you can request a ground floor room if you wish. I clattered up an iron staircase to one on the third floor which was fine, next door to the kitchen so I could make myself a cup of tea or coffee whenever I wished. I’d recommend taking your own pillow if you can carry one, as only one was provided. And coat hangers seem rare, but other than that I had no complaints.

I came away stimulated and inspired, having had great fun, a catch-up with old friends and made many new ones as everyone is most welcoming. Oh, and I booked for next year.

For more information take a look here:

http://www.writersholiday.net/caerleon.htm

Status of Women in Sixteenth Century France

2011-07-28T08:00:00.001+01:00

‘Frenchwomen,’ said a critic, ‘are very devout in seeming, but in point of fact they are very light and very free. Every one of them, even if she be a courtesan, wishes to be treated as an honest woman, and there is no lady of bad fame who has not some objection to make to the morals of her neighbour. Their manners and talk are most agreeable, but one fault they have and that is avarice.’

Nuns, apparently, were worse. But then many were quite secular in their habits, certainly Henry IV of France enjoyed affairs with several, including Marie de Beauvilliers, abbess of Montmartre, and possibly several others. He did like to spread his favours.

Women often chose to enter a nunnery, considering this a better option than marrying a man they didn’t care for. And who could blame them since most marriages, and even being chosen as someone’s mistress, was often outside a woman’s control.

Others were incarcerated in a religious house by a husband with an eye to finding a new wife, a danger which threatens Queen Margot in The Reluctant Queen. This is the sequel to Hostage Queen and continues the story of Marguerite de Valois as she is reunited with her philandering husband in his castle at Nerac. Nothing quite works out as she hoped as there is a rival for Henry's affection in the delectable form of La Belle Corisande. Margot is ultimately forced to run, but can she escape with her life...?

The next love in Henry's life is Gabrielle d’Estrée whose one wish is to marry for love, but her mother sells her as a mistress to three different men before she catches the eye – and the heart – of Henry of Navarre, now King of France. Henry promises to marry her, but Gabrielle’s difficulties have only just begun...

Is the love of a king enough to secure Gabrielle both the happiness and respectability she craves and a crown for their son as the next dauphin of France?

What struck me most about Renaissance women when doing my research was how independent and well educated many of them were. Margot was proficient in French, Italian, Latin, Greek, music and mathematics as well as her devotions. But it wasn’t only royalty and the aristocracy who believed in education. The bourgeoisie were also great advocates of such refinements. It was considered that an educated woman was better able to maintain her family’s health, raise her children well, make her husband content and keep a household in order. The reformation also encouraged education for girls so that they were able to read the scriptures for themselves and be spiritually closer to God.

Daughters were, however, kept very much on a tight rein. They were expected to walk behind their mothers, and were rigorously attended and chaperoned at all times. When travelling they were expected to ride en croupe behind a servant, observing the proprieties by clinging only to the pommel and not by putting their arms about the servant’s waist. Clearly that would have been beyond the pale. Nor were young ladies allowed to drink, although their mothers might be allowed to add a splash of Burgundy to give their water a little colour and flavour.

‘But their deportment,’ said an observer, ‘conveyed rather their good taste than their truth.’

So, a passion for women’s rights simmered beneath the surface. How wonderful! Men grumbled, of course, at women’s independence, just as they do now. Nothing changes! They complained that their wives talked too much, stopping to gossip with passers-by in the street. They objected about their readiness to go alone to church or market, often being out and about for hours at a time, and ‘their husbands never daring to ask where they were.’

Marriage was less about love and more about wealth, position and power, which meant, as we romantic novelists know, plenty of opportunity for extra-curricular activity in the way of affaires. Henry IV is reputed to have enjoyed at least 60 mistresses, and sired numerous children with 11 of them, and probably many more we don’t even know of. He is said to have provided for them well and been a loving father. Nevertheless, he had great difficulty winning Gabrielle, and was greatly jealous of every man who looked her way. But with such a beauty who can blame him?

The proprieties and ritual of marriage began with les accords when the happy couple joined hands in the presence of their parents. Next came the fiançailles when the bans were published. The parents, bride and bridegroom would visit the curé together to attend to this important matter. Then came the Epousailles which of course took place in church. The bridegroom was not allowed to enter without giving a considerable sum in alms, and guests were chosen to attend the wedding breakfast with an eye to the money they’d be likely to give. A bowl was handed round at dinner into which donations for a ‘nest-egg’ for the couple could be dropped.

One amusing rule I found for widows, was that they were obliged to wear a high necked dress, long cloak and a veil, and in Italy the authorities felt obliged to pass a law restricting the style as widows’ veils had become ‘dangerously attractive.’ You can’t keep a bad girl down.

The Reluctant Queen

out in paperback late July/early August

View it here on Amazon.

How to format an ebook for Kindle

2011-07-18T10:52:00.000+01:00

The important thing in formatting for ebooks is to keep things as clean and simple as possible.

Basic requirements are:
1. No page numbers.
2. One space only after a full stop.
3. 1.5 spacing between lines.
4. Left align. Do not justify.
5. Times New Roman 12 (Don’t use fancy font. Kindle will change it to TNR anyway, so you might as well save it the job of converting.)
6. It is essential not to use the tab key. Instead use the return key, or the slide rule just below the toolbar to 0.5cm. Better still use the Format/Style manager section.

Step 1
Start by clicking on Edit/Select All
You’ll find Format/Style somewhere on your toolbar, depending which version of Word you are using. It will list All Styles available. You might not wish to mess with Normal so choose Body Text or something similar. (I use Body Text First Indent). Stick to one only. You can modify it to the requirements listed above by clicking on font, then paragraph, (see below) and finally choose the language. To add an indent click on Special/First Line, and in the By: box put 0.5
Set the before and after spacing to 0 pt.

Click OK and apply. The document should be reformatted. This format should also now be offered on your toolbar.

Step 2
To see what you are doing when formatting click the show/hide feature on your toolbar designated by the mark. (This will show paragraph returns, extra spaces as dots, tabs or any other strange formatting. If it’s not in your toolbar, you can usually find it in Tools/Options/View and then under Formatting Marks.) If it shows up any odd little right facing arrows this is evidence that you’ve used your tab key.

Here’s a quick way to delete them:
Click on Edit/Select All
Click Find/Replace/More.
Click Special and select Tab Character from the list.
Leave the Replace box blank
Click - Replace All.
(The screen will tell you how many tabs were deleted.)

Now use Find and replace to change two spaces to one space after a full stop.
You can also use Find and replace to change straight quotes into curly ones, which Smashwords prefer.

Hyphens which were put in with the ctrl key and found at the end of lines in a print book, can be anywhere on the page of an ebook. They will create a break in the word which irritates the reader. To eliminate them click on Find/More/Special and choose optional hyphen. Leave Replace blank. Click Replace All.

Step 3
As you go through the document you may choose not to indent after a time break, in which case just manually delete the indent.
Alternatively you can select the line - right click/click Paragraph/By… and replace the 0.5 with 0. OK (or Enter)
Check through till you’re happy with what you’ve done.

A New Direction

2011-07-14T07:00:00.001+01:00

I’m a compulsive buyer of books, both new and second hand and one day while browsing along my shelves I spotted one I’d bought years ago in Hay-on-Wye. It was called Queen of Hearts, written back in the 60s by Charlotte Haldane. It proved to be an autobiography of Marguerite de Valois and as I began to read I was immediately intrigued. Margot, as she was familiarly known, was no average woman, rather one born before her time, and I wanted to know more about her. So I began on a journey of twelve months research and discovery which led me to write a stirring tale of her adventures, her intrigues and passions, and the dangers she faced in the sixteenth century French Court.

The trilogy begins with Hostage Queen where Margot’s mother, who was Catherine de Medici, marries her off to Henry of Navarre, despite Margot being a Catholic and Henry a Huguenot, in order to bring to an end to years of religious wars. Margot wasn’t exactly thrilled by the prospect as she was in love with Henri de Guise. But as with all royal princesses, she was expected to bring political benefit through marriage. Within days of their wedding Paris was embroiled in the Massacre of St Bartholomew and the couple are kept virtual prisoners in the Louvre. Navarre was a likeable enough fellow but not the faithful sort. Once Margot realised this, she started a love affair with Guise, a dangerous undertaking, and intrigue and scandal surrounded her at every turn. Margot lived in fear of her life while recklessly flouting convention as far as she dare. Somehow she had to save her husband's life, help him to escape, and then follow him to safety. A task fraught with danger… Buy Hostage Queen on Amazon:

The second book, Reluctant Queen, continues the story of Henry IV and Margot, of what happened when she was reunited with her husband in Nerac, and with her relationship with Guise. It then moves on to Henry’s mistress, Gabrielle d’Estrées. History tells us that when Gabrielle was sixteen years old she was so lovely that her mother sold her as a mistress to Henri III. A most unnatural mother if ever there was one. Gabrielle, however, got the worst of the deal as she was passed on from lover to lover, including the Cardinal de Guise, who she was with for more than a year until May 1588 when he left for Paris to support his nephew, the Duke de Guise, in what became known as the Day of the Barricades. And then she caught the eye of the new King Henry IV. Margot absolutely refuses to divorce him in order to allow him to marry his whore, but there are more ways than one of getting rid of a troublesome wife…

Out in papberback at the end of July 2011

Buy Reluctant Queen on Amazon

I’ve just finished the last in the trilogy, titled The Queen and the Courtesan, which will be out in the Autumn. In this Henry is embroiled with Henriette d’Entragues, but she isn’t satisfied with simply being his mistress, she wants a crown too. Despite his promises to marry her, he is obliged by political necessity to marry Marie de Medici, an Italian princess who will bring riches to the treasury. But Henriette isn’t for giving up easily. She has a written promise of marriage and is prepared to do whatever it takes to declare the royal marriage illegal. Queen Margot eventually returns to Paris, much to the new queen’s despair. Hasn’t she enough problems dealing with a mistress out for revenge, let alone an ex-wife?

The fascinating part of writing this type of true historical is the research. I love working out what kind of people they were, why they made the mistakes they did, what was their motivation, what made them tick and how did others respond to them? The same rules of characterisation apply, except that you can’t make it up. You have to be a bit of a detective and build them from clues. Then it’s a case of reading through a mass of material, and as it’s impossible to put everything in, deciding which are the relevant parts for your story. I discovered it was vital to read widely, so that I could negotiate my way through political and religious bias, what was likely to be rumour or propaganda, and often pick up gems from one source that weren’t available in others. It’s like putting together a jig-saw, but gathering the pieces from different boxes. I was sorry when the tale was told and I had to say goodbye to my characters whom I’d come to know and understand so well.

Moving Forward in my journey as a writer.

2011-07-07T07:00:00.003+01:00

Work became my solace, my sanity. I poured my heart into my writing, and I was lucky in the years following to have two books in the top twenty Sunday Times bestseller lists: Polly’s War and The Favourite Child.

But what is a saga?

Do we class it as romantic fiction, a historical, or a genre in its own right? In the old Norse tradition it was a story of heroic achievement or marvellous adventure. In the modern version it’s a nostalgic tale about ordinary people dealing with extraordinary events in their lives. The ingredients generally include a strong woman as the main character, striving against all odds to make her place in the world and ultimately find love. Also, people love to read about a place they know. It’s not simply a question of painting pretty scenery. The setting must be an intrinsic part of the book, one that is familiar, which we can recognise and identify with.

As well as this strong sense of place, the genre uses a multi-layered viewpoint and a page-turning plot. They deal with universal themes in a small domestic setting, social history at ground level, dealing with the position of women and the working classes, often forgotten in the larger dome of history. But then not all history was made on the battlefield. And it is important to set this domestic scene against a view of a wider world.

Catherine Cookson is considered to be the instigator of this genre, and made a point of dealing with difficult subjects, in particular women’s issues: illegitimacy, abuse, class, divorce, rejection, adoption, betrayal, loss. There is no limit to the topics covered, and emotion can run high in these stories. In The Bobbin Girls the issue is how much damage can a lie do if it is big enough? In Kitty Little it is loyalty and betrayal. The Favourite Child concerns bringing contraception to the masses in the 1920s. Candy Kisses is about child abuse. And there are many more: 35 published titles so far, including my other historicals. In my latest sagas: The House of Angels and Angels at War, the story examines how the three sisters overcome the damage caused by an abusive father.

It is not always easy to write such difficult scenes yet from the emails I get, they often touch a chord. Anyone who has ever suffered abuse, whether as a child, or bullying in school, in a violent marriage, or even in the work place, will appreciate how the first thing you lose is self-esteem. You are demeaned, humiliated, debased and shamed so that you come to hate yourself, a deliberate ploy on the part of the abuser as it puts the power in his hand. The Angel sisters have to deal with all of that, find love and a happy ever after. Wherever human emotion is involved you can find a story, and a writer must be honest with her reader and write from the heart.

Here's the blurb for Angels at War, now out in paperback:
Two years have passed since Livia and her sisters suffered at the hands of their brutal father and Livia is set to marry the handsome and caring Jack Flint while her sisters are contentedly living at Todd Farm. Yet she dreams of bringing back to life the neglected drapery business which was left to her when her father died. But is she prepared to jeopardise the love she shares with Jack to achieve her wish?

Racked with guilt over the tragic death of her sister Maggie, she promises never to let anyone down again and to do something worthwhile with her life. But standing in her way is the wealthy and determined Matthew Grayson, who has been appointed to oversee the restoration of the business. His infuriating stubbornness clashes with Livia’s tenacity and the pair get off to a bad start. But as her problems with Jack worsen, Livia finds it increasingly difficult to resist his charms. Despite all the emotional turmoil, she is also resolute in her support for the Suffragette Movement which puts further strain on her relationship with Jack. With the extra pressures of her sisters’ problems, is it possible for Livia to regain control of her life?

I’ve now published 25 sagas and a couple of years ago began to feel the need for a change to freshen my creativity and add to my output, so struck out in a new direction.

I'll tell you more about that next week.

Dark Days

2011-07-01T07:00:00.044+01:00

I was enjoying my new career. I finished that first series then went on to write Lakeland Lily which deals with snobbery, and the effects of World War I, followed by The Bobbin Girls, set against the wonderful back-drop of Grizedale Forest where two young people in love try to escape the disapproval of parents and make a new life for themselves. I signed a new contract for more books. Everything was going well. I’d achieved my dream. Life was good.

And then one sunny day in August, 1998, I got the kind of call no parent ever wishes to receive. I learned that my daughter had been killed. She was 27. I’m not going to linger over this part of my story as it is too painful, even now. Bad things happen to good people all the time. You just don’t expect it to happen to your own beautiful daughter.

The next few years were dark as we dealt with our grief. Writing, as you will appreciate, was the last thing on my mind. My publishers stood by me, put everything on hold and waited. My husband changed his job and we bought a small guest house. We still had to earn a living and being together every day helped enormously. My other daughter, and everyone else in the family was back at work. I had been a published writer for 10 years so felt I should do the same. The trouble was my brain was a lump of soggy pudding. Writing isn’t something you can just turn on like a tap, and my muse had gone, my hunger to write had evaporated. What was the point of it all? I asked myself. Why should I even bother to try? They were just silly little paperbacks, with no value at all. Don’t we all feel this way when real life suddenly becomes overpowering?

But my writer friends wouldn’t allow me to be so defeatist. They convinced me that Anna would expect me to keep on writing, that she was as proud of my talents as I was of hers. They reminded me how the first thing someone does when dealing with sickness or loss, is to try to lose themselves in a story. People seek escape from their troubles, and often find it in the books they read, so writing novels isn’t useless at all, they insisted. It’s a service in it’s own small way, a therapy as well as entertainment. Writing is a gift, one that in a strange way can transcend the horrors of life, the dark days of ill health and pain, and help you deal with them. It’s a step into the sub-conscious, which operates on an entirely different level. Like in our teenage years when we wrote our troubled thoughts into a secret diary, as grown-ups we can still tap into that stream-of-consciousness writing. Which surely brings hope to us all?

And so I booted up the computer but found I was unable to go back to the original novel, which held painful associations. It would be another two years before I felt able to go back to Kitty Little. Instead, I dug out an old rejected piece and started to rework it. My editor encouraged me, and in a bid to keep myself from falling into that dark bottomless pit, little by little I began to write again.

You can check out my ebooks here.

Buy from Amazon

Next week I'll be talking about Moving Forward, and what exactly is a saga.

What do we know about sheep?

2011-06-30T13:59:00.000+01:00

My journey as a writer continued. I now had sufficient confidence to try for the mainstream fiction market. Luckpenny Land was the first full length historical saga I ever wrote. We were still living on the small-holding, out on Shap Fell in Cumbria. And as I trekked up the fellside in the dark of a freezing night to check if our sheep were about to lamb, or to feed a pet lamb, I’d be thinking: ‘There must be a book in this. But who would want to read about a middle-aged mum, with arthritis, being so stupid as to choose to live in a place where the pantry was colder than her wonderful Zanussi fridge, where the winter snows freeze the mains water supply in the field below the house every winter, as well as the battery in her car as it stands buried in snow in the yard.

So I used those wonderful two words that writers love: What if? What if I wrote about a girl who wanted to be a sheep farmer, it was World War II and her very Victorian father thought that it wasn’t women’s work. I could then use many of the amusing incidents and anecdotes my family had experienced living this life, but write it as fiction. Snag number one: running a smallholding with a few sheep and a couple of dozen hens didn’t qualify me to write knowledgeably about running a proper sheep farm, let alone during WWII, so I would need to do considerable research.

I began by interviewing Cumbrian farmers, who are a breed apart. Stoic, strong, taciturn, and distrustful of strangers, particularly of people who have not lived in the Lake District for three generations. It’s not that they are unfriendly, only that they’re more used to the company of themselves and their animals rather than a nosy, would-be author. At this point in my career having published only short stories, articles, and 5 Mills and Boon historicals, the prospect of a full-length saga was daunting. And I’d never done an interview in my life.

When I rang the first name on my list, a farmer out in the Langdales, I spoke first to his wife to ask if he would see me. ‘Happen’, she said, which I took as a yes. To be on the safe side I took my husband with me as he was used to dealing with Lakeland farmers, and it worked like a charm. I asked the farmer a question, and he told David the answer. I was so nervous I didn’t even dare to switch on the brand new tape recorder I’d taken with me, so I scribbled notes like mad, and then even more later. I didn’t make that mistake again, but he was marvellous. He took me through his farming year, explained everything most carefully, and showed me pictures of his dogs. Not his family, his dogs. All the farmers I interviewed did that. It’s a nonsense to say farmers don’t care about their working dogs. Mr G’s dog appeared in the book, much to his delight, although the accident the fictional dog suffered was far more dramatic to that of the real dog, even if it had the same outcome. And no, I can’t say anymore without spoiling it.

Some of the farmers I spoke to were women. Although farming was a reserved occupation during the war, many men opted to join up and leave their wives to run the family farm. I learned from them how to kill and scald a pig, how to wring a chicken’s neck and pluck it. (my hens all lived to a ripe old age) Plus all the various wangles they got up to during the war, such as dressing up a pig as a person in the car so they wouldn’t be caught out selling one. Talking to these women inspired many plot incidents and ideas, many based on real life, including the most dramatic which takes place in Luckpenny Land. And I won’t spoil it by telling you that either. Armed with the research, I started to weave a love story and plan the lives of my characters.

So how did I go about selling it? I met an agent at a weekend conference and told him all about my idea, and he asked to see it when it was finished. It took 9 months, just like a baby. Weeks later, I got The Call. There were offers from three publishers and I went with Hodder & Stoughton, now part of the Hatchette group. I loved writing this series of books, now available in ebook on Amazon, etc. Selling Luckpenny Land on a fantastic three book contract deal proved to me that persistence pays. I was on a high. What could go wrong? Well, everything, that’s what. It’s called Life.

Now available as an ebook. Buy it from Amazon.

An Ill Wind

2011-06-10T08:00:00.003+01:00

I was happily running my book shop but began to suffer from debilitating headaches which were laying me low for two or three days each week. Diagnosed as ‘stress’ I was forced to sell the business and we decided that it would be a good idea to buy a cottage in the country. My husband was by this time well established in his small town solicitor’s practice, so I could take some time off and just be a mum. The ‘Good Life’ was on TV at the time, a comedy about a young couple trying out self-sufficiency, which seemed like a good idea. We bought a half derelict house high on the fells in the Lake District, together with one hectare of land, and doing it up would be a great stress-buster, then I'd write The novel.

However, when the snows came that first Christmas, the truth of my problems finally became clear. I had cervical spondylitis, a form of osteo-arthritis. Since I’d convinced myself that I had a brain tumour, this was great news. However, for several months I was overwhelmed by pain but then, slowly, I began to improve and while doing so, made an amazing discovery. Writing is the best therapy of all. It takes you out of yourself, above pain; a fact which remains true for me to this day. With the help of an electronic typewriter, (still no computer) and propped up by cushions, I was able to type despite a neck collar and one arm in a sling. I must have looked hilarious.

Osteo-arthritis is a condition, not an illness, and a strange one at that. I worked on my yoga, ate what I thought was the right food, took my fish oil tablets and various homeopathic remedies, although I couldn’t say which worked best, gradually I got better. I learned to ‘read’ my body, to know when it needed to rest, when to move and be active. On good days when I felt marvellous, euphoric even when the pain had subsided, I would feed my hens, look after our few sheep and their lambs, grow fruit and vegetables. I even planted a small wood and learned how to make jam. All great material for amusing articles, which I wrote on the wet days when confined to the house, of which there were plenty. The first success was a Cackle of Hens, which was how not to do it. Write about what you know, they say. I wrote about what I didn’t know about running a small-holding, ably assisted by my animal friends.

With my family at work and school, I wrote short stories, serials, a children’s novel, picture scripts, a couple of Mills & Boon contemporaries, and articles galore. The aim was to send them out faster than they were coming back. Unfortunately, my scatter-gun approach didn’t work very well, as most came winging back. Selling short articles was one thing, but I still hadn’t cracked fiction. Postman Pat would bring what he thought to be exciting stuff for me each day in his little red van, but were really big fat rejection parcels. I started taking courses, read everything I could about the art of writing, learned about market study.

I finally sold my first short story to D.C.Thompson. What a red letter day that was, also the name of the magazine, now defunct. Following this breakthrough I seemed to have discovered the knack, or I’d learned to target my markets more affectively, and I went on to sell several more short stories to My Weekly and People’s Friend, also several true confessions for My Story magazine.

Best of all I’d regained my confidence. I’d realised that you don’t have to be a genius to be published. I tried again for Mills & Boon, this time with a historical. Two more rejections came, both with sufficient editorial help to encourage me to keep trying. They accepted the third, Madeiran Legacy. (Now available on Amazon as an ebook) I was jubilant. With my first advance I bought a computer and went on to sell them four more of these.

I'd served a long apprenticeship but during it I’d learned how to build strongly motivated characters, how to structure a story, put emotion on the page and make every word count. But then my romances began to get longer, and more complex, and I knew it was time to move on. I tried my hand at a saga, but that didn't prove to be as easy as I'd expected either.

Is Running a Book Shop good for a writer?

2011-06-03T08:00:00.001+01:00

Running a book shop must be every writer’s dream, or at least to be let loose in one to freely enjoy its spoils. It was certainly one of mine. Sitting behind the counter reading the latest hot sellers, or re-reading all those favourite Georgette Heyer and Jean Plaidy novels was surely an essential part of any bookseller’s life, wasn’t it, if I was to successfully advise customers? I could run my shop, mind my children, and work on my novel in between customers. Of such stuff are dreams made.

It didn't quite work out that way. It was true that at the end of a busy day, in the wee small hours, I could still be found scribbling away, although rarely did I send anything out. Something was happening to me. But something wasn’t quite right. This was the moment I was going to discover the secret of all these famous authors and emulate them so that I could turn into one myself. I gobbled up such delights as Scruples, Hollywood Wives, Lace, The Thorn Birds, Love Story, Jonathan Livingston Seagull, The French Lieutenant's Woman. I was like a food addict let loose in a chocolate shop.

These authors were sending out a powerful message. They had brilliant, original ideas, a way with words which proved their skill with prose, their characters lived on in my mind, the stories were compulsive, the settings fabulous and far removed from anything I could relate to in my humble life. How could I ever dream up anything half so good? Why would anyone wish to read anything I wrote? I was intimidated by their greatness, and terrified of copying these masters.
I put my pen away.

Ten years were to go by in this way. The children, and the book shop, grew surprisingly well. We had Richard Adams (Watership Down) come to our small shop in the English Lake District for a signing of Plague Dogs, and sold well over 100 copies. We became school and library suppliers, I gave talks, ran book clubs, and soon became absorbed in reading masses of book catalogues instead of bestsellers, and each night painstakingly wrote out the orders by hand in those pre-computer days. Not to mention unpacking, checking, making up the orders and getting them delivered on time. Those magical days of reading behind the counter were now a nostalgic memory.

As was any writing of my own.

Most of all I helped customers to find just the book they wanted to read, by an author they couldn’t remember but the book had a girl and a child on the jacket. they wanted the War and Peace that was on the telly and not that big thick Penguin edition; and whatever that story was that had been read on Radio Four the other afternoon. It was fun, it was challenging, it taught me a great deal about the publishing industry, about books and people, but left me no time to write. Not that it mattered any more, as my confidence had entirely drained away, and I knew in my heart that I could never join these luminaries that graced our shelves. Maybe I’d get back to that when I was a better writer. Sadly, it didn’t cross my mind that I never would achieve that blissful state if I didn’t practise my craft.

It wasn't until after I'd sold the buisness that I began to take my writing seriously, and yes, I did find that having spent those years in the book trade did help me in many ways. I was aware of what book buyers were looking for, what was commercial, how genres worked, but the craft of turning out a good story cannot be learnt. You can either do that or you can't. So how did I get started? How did I find the confidence? Well, it was an ill wind that blew me some good. I'll tell you more about that next time.

Suffragettes

2011-05-30T17:15:00.001+01:00

My latest title, Angels at War, out this month in paperback, is the sequel to House of Angels, although the story will stand alone. Again this book is set in the Lake District, partly in the beautiful Kentmere Valley around the time of the First World War It’s a beautiful quiet corner of England which hasn’t changed much since. The nearest village is Staveley, situated between Kendal and Windermere, and the hills can offer some of the best walking the Lakes. Here is picture to tempt you to visit.

But this book is also about suffragettes. The suffragette movement in Great Britain was focused around Manchester as that is where Emeline Pankhurst and her family lived. The general election of 1905 brought it to the attention of the wider nation when Christabel Pankhurst and Annie Kenny interrupted Sir Edward’s speech with the cry: ‘Will the Liberal Government give votes to women?’

They were charged with assault and arrested. The women further shocked the world by refusing to pay the shilling fine, and were consequently thrown in jail. Never before had English suffragists resorted to violence, but it was the start of a long campaign. Their headquarters were transferred from Manchester to London and by 1908, and now dubbed the suffragettes, they were marching through London, interrupting MP’s speeches, assaulting policemen who attempted to arrest them, chaining themselves to fences, even sending letter bombs and breaking the windows of department stores and shops in Bond Street. They went on hunger-strikes while incarcerated, brutalised in what became known as the ‘Cat and Mouse Act.’ This ‘war’ did not end until 1928 when women were finally granted the vote in equal terms with men. They showed enormous courage and tenacity, were prepared to make any sacrifice to achieve their ends.

Livia is one such woman. She is fiercely independent – a ‘modern’ woman in her eyes, and having suffered at the hands of a brutal father, she is reluctant to give up her independence and subject herself to the control of any male. She dreams of bringing back to life the neglected drapery business, but standing in her way is the wealthy and determined Matthew Grayson who has been appointed to oversee the restoration of the business. His infuriating stubbornness clashes with Livia’s tenacity and the pair get off to a bad start. She then joins the Suffragette Movement which puts further strain on her relationship with Jack, the other man in her life, who she has promised to marry one day.

I’ve written about suffragettes before, as the subject fascinates me. How passionate these women must have felt to put their lives at risk in the way they did. Here is a description from the book of the force feeding ritual.

Excerpt:

This morning when the cell door banged open, instead of the tempting tray of food brought to plague them, came a small, stocky man with side whiskers and a mole on his chin. The wardress shook Livia awake.

‘Get up girl, the doctor needs to examine you. We can’t have you die on us for lack of food.’
There followed a humiliating examination in which she was again poked and prodded, a stethoscope held to her chest, her pulse taken. When he was done he turned to the wardress and gave a nod. The wardress smiled, as if he’d said something to please her. ‘If you will not eat of your own accord, then we must find a way to make you.

There were four of them now crowding into the cell, huge Amazonian women with muscles on them like all-in wrestlers, and they brought with them such a bewildering assortment of equipment that even Mercy paled.

‘Dear lord, they’re going to force feed us.’

They dealt with Mercy first. She fought like a tiger while Livia cried and begged them to stop, and finally sobbed her heart out as her protests were ignored. The four women held Mercy down, shoved in the tube and poured the liquid mixture into her stomach. When they were done they dropped her limp body back on the bed.

Then it was Livia’s turn.

She tried to run but there was no escape. They picked her up bodily and strapped her into a chair by her wrists, ankles and thighs, then tied a sheet under her chin. The sour breath and stale sweat of the women’s armpits made her want to vomit; their heavy breasts suffocating her as they held her down. The wardress was panting with the effort of trying to force open her mouth, while another woman held her nose closed. Livia did her utmost to resist, heart racing, teeth clenched, but she could scarcely breathe.

Then she felt the cold taste of metal slide between her lips. The implement, whatever it was, cut into her gums as the wardress attempted to prise them open. Livia tried to jerk her head away but it was held firmly by one of the women standing behind her. Once again pictures flashed into her mind of the tower room at Angel House, the place where her father had carried out unspeakable tortures upon the three sisters, bullying one in order to control the other

Livia hadn’t been able to escape then, and she couldn’t now.

The constant stabbing at her gums and teeth was every bit as painful as having one drawn. The steel probe scraped against her gums, and Livia tasted the iron saltiness of her own blood, felt it trickle down her throat. She heard the rasp of a screw, felt the inexorable pressure of a lever. Either she opened her teeth beneath the unrelenting pressure of the steel instrument, or they would shatter. That’s if she didn’t die of suffocation first.

As Livia snatched at a breath a tube was instantly shoved down into her stomach. ‘Gocha!’ the woman cried in triumph.

It scraped down her dry throat, causing the muscles to convulse. Then the screw, or lever, whatever it was, jammed firmly between her teeth so that she could resist no more as a curdled mix of milk and egg was poured into her.

Livia felt as if she were choking, as if her entire body were filling up with the liquid and drowning her. When the tube was finally pulled out, the whole mess seemed to explode out of her, spraying the clean aprons and hard, unyielding faces of her assailants. They were furious and flung her on to the hard bed, gathered up their equipment and left her blessedly in peace, stinking of sour milk and vomit.

Angels at War, published by Allison & Busby £7.99 paperback - now released.

Addresses don’t come much grander than ‘Number One London’, the popular name for Apsley House.

2011-05-14T09:00:00.001+01:00

On a recent visit to London and finding ourselves close to Hyde Park Corner where I was enjoying watching the Household Cavalry, we came upon this wonderful eighteenth century house quite by chance.

It was the home of the Duke of Wellington following his victory over Napoleon at Waterloo, and it seems to have changed very little since the days of the Iron Duke.

There’s a statue of Napoleon, a fine art collection with paintings by Velazquez and Rubens, and an amazing collection of silver and porcelain.

The house is delightful and full of interest but best of all I loved the Waterloo Gallery where splendid balls used to be held. I could imagine the room packed with the very echelons of society, ladies in their pretty pastel gowns, the gallants in their smart uniform, footmen moving between them offering champagne.

Harriet Arbuthnot (1793 –1834) a close friend of the Duke, often acted as hostess for these splendid events. She was rumoured to be the mistress of the Duke of the Wellington, although this is disputed. It was said that he enjoyed his relationship with Mrs Arbuthnot because he found in her "the comfort and happiness his wife could not give him." They were certainly close and she frequently hosted his dinner parties as his marriage wa, apparently, a cold one, his wife residing mainly in the country. Earlier, Harriet had been very friendly with Lord Castlereagh, calling him her "dearest and best friend" until his death in 1822.

Married to Charles Arbuthnot, a politician who was also a great friend of Wellington, we can only speculate whether the friendship was indeed innocent or a ménage à trois? She was certainly a noted society lady in a perfect position to comment upon events, and became a noted diarist. Her observations and memories of life within the British establishment were full of gossip and detail, finally published in 1950 as The Journal of Mrs Arbuthnot. A rich and useful source for any fan of early nineteenth century London. She sounds such a fascinating woman that I’d like to know more about her. But do call at Number One, London. Apsley House is most definitely worth a visit.

Canterbury Tart

2011-04-20T09:35:00.000+01:00

Canterbury Tart is one of our favourite recipes. Easy to make and delicious.

The pastry:
100g chilled butter, cubed
225g plain white flour
25g icing sugar, sifted
1 egg, beaten

Filling:
4 eggs
225g caster sugar
grated rind and juice of 2 lemons
100g butter, melted.
2 large cooking apples, peeled, cored.
1 or 2 Granny Smith apples (or similar dessert variety)
25g demerara sugar

Method:
Make the pastry and put in fridge to rest for 30 minutes.
Roll out pastry on a lightly floured board. Line a flan tin 10 1/2 inches by 1 1/2 in deep, prick all over with a fork, then return to fridge.

To prepare the filling: beat the eggs, sugar, lemon rind and juice together in a large mixing bowl. Stir in the warm melted butter, then coarsely grate the cooking apples directly into the mixture and mix well
Slice the dessert apples.

Spread the lemon mixture over the pastry base of the flan. Level the surface with the back of a spoon and arrange the dessert apple slices around the outside edge, neatly overlapping. Sprinkle the apple slices with a little demorara sugar.

Bake for about 40 - 50 minutes, 180 degrees for first 10-15 mins, then turn down to 150 degrees. Centre should feel firm to the touch and the apple slices tinged brown.
Serve warm with cream or ice cream.
Enjoy!

York Writing Festival

2011-04-01T11:29:00.000+01:00

I’ve recently returned from an excellent weekend at the Festival of Writing Conference, York. It was inspiring, informative and stimulating, with some excellent speakers, and it was good to talk to people who were writing something other than romantic fiction. It began with a networking session where everyone had the chance to get to know a few of the 250 delegates by chatting to them in a relaxed way over a glass of wine. Most enjoyable. Later that evening some brave souls read an extract from their work in progress which was then commented on by a member of a panel, and later the audience voted. Scary stuff.

One of my favourite talks was given by Tom Tivnan, features editor of the Bookseller who spoke about the state of the publishing industry, looking at how we arrived at the current situation and the challenge presented by online retailers and ebooks. Most interesting and thought-provoking. Donna Condon from Piatkus spoke about what she was looking for, warning how difficult it is to get published so your work has to be original and perfectly presented. She managed to do this without being too doom and gloom. Quite an achievement. Emma Darwin had us all trying out different writer’s voices, which was fun and very useful. Jean Fullerton, seen right with Kate Allen one of the organisers, gave an excellent talk on Show don't Tell.

Other speakers included literary agent Carole Blake, Lyn Vernham from Choc Lit, Jane Holland from Embrace, Ed Handyside from Myrmidon Books, Beverley Birch from Hodder Childrens, Patrick-Janson Smith from Harper Collins, Louise Allan, Penny Legg, Julia Churchill and many others. As always I wanted to go to two talks at once, but on the whole felt I made good choices.

David Nobbs (Reggie Perrin and A Bit of a Do) launched the conference with an inspiring and entertaining talk on the ups and downs of his writing life. He told us frankly about his failures as well as his successes, punctuated with many tips on how to avoid those mistakes ourselves. Well into his 70s he is still writing novels and clearly loving every minute.

We were given the usual goodie bag, plus more books at the gala dinner. Here is Christine Courtney (Trade Winds) enjoying a browse.

Kate Williams, author of Becoming Queen (televised as the Young Victoria) drew the short straw by being the last speaker on Sunday afternoon. Many people had by then left in order to catch their train, which was a pity as only half the delegates were left to hear her. Nevertheless, I’m glad I didn’t miss her talk as she was an interesting and accomplished speaker. I’m now thoroughly enjoying reading this fascinating biography, which of course I got her to sign.

Would I go again to the York Festival? I will indeed. Extremely well organised by Harry Bingham, it attracts some of the top names in the business, both published and aspiring writers of all types, and even the food was good.

House of Angels

2011-03-03T14:05:00.000Z

Sagas often touch on difficult subjects, in this case abuse. The three Angel sisters are ruled by a devil of a father, and the story tells how they overcome the damage such abuse inflicts. It is not always easy to write such scenes yet from the emails I get, they often touch a chord. Anyone who has ever suffered abuse, whether as a child or bullying in school, in a violent marriage, or even in the work place, will appreciate how the first thing you lose is self-esteem. You are demeaned, humiliated, debased and shamed so that you come to hate yourself. This is a deliberate ploy on the part of the abuser as it puts the power in his hand.

The abusive mentality makes certain their victim is allowed no control over their own life, no rights, not even to be angry or upset. There is a power in anger, and he, or she, as many of the worst abusers are women, claim full rights to that emotion. He is allowed to shout and criticise, to find fault and complain, but the victim is expected only to obey. The abuser also twists everything to suit himself, so that he is always right and the victim wrong. He has unrealistic expectations and if he doesn’t achieve them then he looks for someone to blame other than himself. An abuser is not generally a good listener, as he likes to ridicule, and arrogantly put down others to make himself feel good. Abusers are demanding, seeing themselves as the centre of the universe, and the victim their slave. They are intolerant and have to win every argument. The abuse may be mental in the form of name calling and insults, refusing to speak to or acknowledge a person, a withdrawal of love or praise, or to never be satisfied with the victim’s efforts at school or work, cooking a meal or whatever. Abuse is about power, control, and entitlement.

But no one is entitled to abuse another.

So how do you deal with it? First, as with the Angel sisters, you have to accept that it is happening, and then seek help. Someone, whether your teacher, mother, best friend, doctor or even the police, needs to be told.

Each of my characters are compliant to a degree, but react in different ways. Ella rebels secretly but is then forced into a marriage she does not want, Livia is openly defiant, but protective of both her sisters. Maggie is far too timid and suffers the consequences. But then another daughter unexpectedly appears on the scene, and her attitude towards this father who abandoned her is entirely different…

The Story...
The three Angel sisters live in a large Victorian mansion in the English Lake District. Josiah Angel, their bully of a father, looks upon his daughters as pawns to expand his empire.

The beautiful Kentmere Valley today.

Empty-headed, spoiled Ella is married off to a non-conformist farmer with three children in need of a mother. Amos Todd proves to be a cold, unfeeling man irrationally obsessed with cleanliness, who sees sex as wicked and women as Jezebels. But the beauty of Kentmere gradually seeps into her heart. Can she make a life for herself in the dale?

Livia is the eldest and most spirited of the three, and feels she must protect her more timid sisters. She longs to be a modern woman and work in the family store, but Josiah forbids that, but she can’t help falling in love with Jack Flint, a man untroubled by rules and convention who has already caused her father problems by inciting riots among his tenants.

The youngest daughter, practical, sensible Maggie is expected to keep house for her father with no hope of marriage, although she longs for escape even more than her sisters.

Mercy Simpson lives in the stews of Fellside in Kendal with her mother Florrie, a linsey hand loom weaver in the last throes of consumption. With her mother’s dying breath she learns that her father is none other than Josiah Angel, owner of the town’s fine department store. Florrie urges her daughter to seek employment there. But when Mercy presents herself before him, she learns how very ruthless Josiah Angel can be.

The Angel sisters need all their courage to escape the control of a brutal father, deal with the results of his abuse, and attempt to forge new lives for themselves.

A view of Kendal as it is today.

Here is a reader review.
This is the first book by Freda Lightfoot I have read and, despite the fact that I am not a lover of sagas, I was engaged with the story from page one. She piles horror on horror – rape, torture, sexual humiliation, incest, suicide - but she keeps you reading! The story of the Angel sisters, the novel is set in the Lake District in 1908, the title referring to the high-class department store their father owns. A tyrant, he successfully marries off one of his legitimate daughters so he can gain a plot of land he wants to build on. When his illegitimate daughter comes to him for help after her mother has died, however, he has her taken to the workhouse as, far from being of use to him, she is a threat to his standing in the town. Another daughter defies him, refusing to give up the working-class man she loves, while his youngest remains at home, hating him but unable to escape. How each of these four women cope with the life their father has forced on them, makes for page-turning reading, and I am sure that this novel will become yet another bestseller for Lightfoot.
Jay Dixon

Out 7 March as an ebook on Amazon