I have gone all out with Book Mojo this month. Not only am I in their fantastic mayhem & motives monthly promo as Jackson Marsh, but also as James Collins. Added to that, they are doing a cover of me in their newsletter at some point during the month.
Finding a Way, A Fall from Grace, Follow the Van, Where There’s a Will, A Case of Make Believe
Here’s an update on how Holywell Street is coming along.
I am up to around 65,000 words of the first draft, and it’s going along quite well, thank you. I was a little worried that I was about to peak too early, but I have sorted that. It’s a case of me wanting to write the exciting part asap, but not wanting to write it out of sequence. When that happens, I tend to rush the middle, so I have to either a) force myself to slow down, or b) write the exciting part out of sequence, which is what I wanted to avoid. By ‘exciting’ I mean the revelation, the part where I can let go of all the surprises I have kept in my head, and all those traps I have laid through the early part of the story, which I can now spring.
(Wych Street ran behind Holywell Street, and in yesterday’s writing, Jack and Ronny were parked here waiting for someone…)
Holywell Street doesn’t have so many surprises, and it’s not going to have an action ending as we have in A Case of Make Believe and Acts of Faith; it’s going to have more of the kind of ending we had in Gave Developments. What it does have, though, is a string of seemingly unrelated and random ‘clues’ for Jack and co. to solve, some information based on fact about a certain Victorian pornographer, a nod to the story of Jack Saul, and plenty of factual details about a few other matters you will read about before too long. Hopefully, you will find the book on the shelves and ready for reading before the end of June.
Meanwhile, can I tempt you to a click and a browse of some mysteries and thrillers that are all available on Kindle Unlimited? Have a browse here, and I’ll be back on Saturday with more news.
In the world of film, a tracking shot is “A camera movement that follows the action, typically moving alongside or with the subject to create a dynamic, immersive view of the scene.” [Adobe.com]
You know the kind of thing: When the shot opens on someone walking left to right and we follow them, then the camera stops at the two people talking at a table, as if the crossing person brought us there.
This is a technique I use in my books, and I mention it today because I’ve just written one into Holywell Street, and while doing so, I wondered when I first started using them…
I think it was during The Clearwater Inheritance, because that involved a great journey, and it inspired the scene on the front cover. It may have been before, but this is the one I remember most because it takes us from the Orient Express across Europe, across the English Channel and to Cornwall.
If Archer’s insane brother dies, their distant cousin, the evil Count Movileşti, will inherit everything, and with the influenza pandemic threatening the brother’s asylum, the outlook is grave. The only thing that can ensure Archer’s future is a legal document left behind by his grandfather, but the clue to its location is hidden within two pieces of music. Archer has one; the other is in Movileşti’s collection at Castle Rasnov.
Rather than describe it, I thought I would put it here, so you’ve got something to read or reread over your morning coffee. (I’ll be back with more news on Wednesday. Watch out for a newsletter that should be out today with a heap of new ideas for your TBR pile.)
The Clearwater Inheritance Chapter Thirty (part)
Between Szeged, Hungary and Vienna, Austria Saturday 18th January – Night
The locomotive steamed west from Budapest, its steel plough slicing snow and hurling it aside in swathes. Its pistons pumped an incessant pulse, while the chimney belched a constant stream of smoke that billowed from tunnels and trailed behind to hover above the sleeping countryside.
Cities fell away to become dense forests topped with silvery-blue moonlight that bathed the land from the hedgerows to the star-showered horizon. The Danube glinted beneath the cloudless sky until the train left the river to its meandering and sped away on its own path. The warm throw of yellow light from the dining car brushed banks and fields, the silhouettes of the wealthy rising and falling over cuttings in distorted shapes and vanishing as the carriages pounded across bridges. Firemen shovelled, stewards served, and passengers dreamt of elegance in gently rocking bunks, unaware of the rise and fall of the hills, and the urgent night-cry of the whistle.
The Orient Express kept its times, crossed the borders, and made its destinations. It saw its passengers on and off through a night that held the continent from Constantinople to Calais in an icy grip as brittle as the thinnest crystal. Night ferries crossed the channel miles from the locomotive and its precious passengers, and the same moon glowed as full over them as it did over Larkspur Hall. The same light bathed the moor, its rises and valleys a patchwork of grey and silver shadows, the countryside blanketed in a fine covering of pristine snow.
An owl swooped from an ancient, weathered oak to glide across a frozen stream. Alert for movement but finding none, it rose on silent wings to watch over the estate where Larkspur waited in the pensive darkness, shuttered and blind. The owl circled the tower and followed the parapet, passing rooms where footmen slept, and dormers under which maids turned in dreams of sweethearts and summer days. Attracted by a solitary light, the bird landed on a cornice washed by the throw from an oil lamp and twitched its head, intrigued by and concerned for what took place inside.
Beneath the sloping roof, a young man sat on the edge of an older woman’s bed, holding her hand and mopping her brow. Her lips moved weakly, and her pale flesh was uncoloured by the lamp-throw which lit the man’s hair in shades of russet and bronze. Light caught the tears that dropped from his cheeks as, leaning closer to listen, he gripped the frail hand tightly, made promises, spoke comforting words and said thanks, until the life in her dulling eyes faded.
His head hung, and his shoulders heaved as he placed her hands across her chest. Wiping his cheeks, he closed her eyes before lifting the sheet to cover her head and said a final goodbye.
When the man approached the window and placed a candle there to flicker in remembrance, the owl dropped from the parapet and continued its flight. It passed the tower where a younger man slept beside a dying fire with a letter in one hand. Building plans, fallen from the other, lay on the floor abandoned to sleep.
The owl passed into the depths of night, while in the corridor beyond the tower, a butler turned down the gas until the passage was a monochrome path of dimly glowing glass and careful footsteps. Pausing at a door, he listened for sounds from within, but his master was sleeping, and he continued to where the two wings of the house met. There, with the grand hall in darkness, he slipped through the baize and followed the winding, stone steps to the ground floor, dimming lamps and securing locks.
The servants’ hall was deserted, but in a few hours, would begin another day as the hall boys laid the fire and stoked the ovens, swept the floors, and washed the tables long before the day considered dawning. The butler met his steward there and learnt his news. The men consoled each other, reminded themselves of their positions and responsibilities, and went their separate ways.
The steward took the path the butler had recently taken, along concealed passages, up the winding stairs, and emerged in the grand hall, there to pause for a moment to relive a memory before climbing to the first floor. Like his colleague, he stopped outside the master bedroom but didn’t disturb its occupant. Instead, let himself into his own room, there to mourn alone.
Throughout the Hall, bristles of moonlight investigated curtain edges and stole around them to play on rugs and furniture. Clocks ticked, and springs wound towards release. The considered chime of a tall clock struck regretfully from the library and echoed through the stillness, while the drawing-room carriage clock tinkled, polite and distant. In the smoking room, the Willard lighthouse clock tolled beneath its dome, and the brass spheres of the anniversary timepiece swung relentlessly back and forth.
In the study, soft ticking on the mantlepiece counted away the seconds, as the last of the embers shuffled through the grate to their rest. Gently, the hour passed, the echoes died, and Larkspur slept in darkness.
But not in silence.
At some time during the night, when clouds had put the moon to bed, and the owl had retaken its perch on the faraway oak, the wood and brass telegraph shocked itself into life. In the alcove beside the moon-forgotten desk, the steel pins snapped their delicate jaws in urgent rhythm, and the wheel turned.
This week’s work in progress update is to let you know that I have just reached the halfway point in the first draft of Holywell Street, the eighth Delamere file. What can I tell you? It’s a complicated trail of seemingly unrelated clues left by a man who wanted a favour done for a specific group of people, and Jack Merrit is compelled to carry out the dead man’s last wish. While he and Baxter start on the trail, Will and Ned have some research to do, and the new detective is settling into life at Delamere.
There’s a little more of Ronny and Simeon in this one, so a little vulgar comedy from time to time, there are facts mixed with fiction as usual, and, so far, we have been taken to places such as the Old Bailey, Fulham, and, of course, Holywell Street.
What I can also share with you today is a shot of my research. This is a screenshot of a record from the Central Criminal Court at the Old Bailey from September 1876, and forms part of one of my clues. These records are online and available for anyone to trawl, and they make for fascinating reading. You can find them for free at Old Bailey Online.
Now, I must return to 1893 and chapter 14, where I will start at 48,500 words. I last left the team in the new boardroom, with someone having a revelation, so it will be interesting to see what happens next. By the way, there will be another newsletter soon, and a new set of promos to view and push, so keep an eye out for all that on Saturday.
I think I mentioned that I would let you know about the new layout at Delamere House as described throughout book eight, Holywell Street. Well, here are my notes and some borrowed images. I’m not sure how you imagine each room, but I know I have a picture of each one in my head as I wrote, and they don’t really look anything like these images, but they were the closest I could come. Delamere House is a mirror image of Clearwater House which is attached to it on the east side. They stand on their own plot of land (roughly where the Household Cavalry Barracks and stables are now situated), in an imaginary street called Buck’s Avenue, and are Georgian in aspect.
April 1893
Ground floor.
Central front door into hall, single stairs opposite becoming double at the turn.
Clients wait in the hall, which now has more comfortable chairs.
Immediately right from the front door, the drawing room is now an office for Baxter and Charlie, and through it, is Jack’s office, though he prefers to work in the main office with them and uses his sparsely furnished office for private talks.
Left from the front door, the dining room is now the sitting room/drawing room and has the billiards table in it at the far end.
At the stairs, turn right and towards the back of the house, the cloakroom is on the left under the stairs, and the library is on the right, with double doors leading into the large, long room.
This is now the research department, with all the books, some of the newspaper archives, the files and the partners’ desk now occupied by Will and Ned.
A writing desk in the library. (That typewriter would not have been there.)
On the other side of the stairs, at the back of the house is the boardroom, which they use as an incident room when necessary, or for larger meetings, or to spread out plans and maps.
Off this is the old servery.
There are servants’ stairs at the end of the house and the baize door beside the staircase.
First Floor
To the left front, above the new sitting room, is Ned’s room and his sitting room is being used as the evening room mainly for the boys.
To the right front, above the new office and study is Jimmy’s suite – like the rest it’s a large bedroom, sitting room, dressing room and bathroom, though these days, Jimmy is hardly there. (We think he has taken rooms at the Inns of Court or nearby, and when he is not studying there, he’s off to Cornwall to spend time with Tom, because they are still together after five years and many trials.)
To the back, left, is Jack’s room which connects to Will’s via the dressing room and bathroom.
To the back, right, is the ‘spare’ suite which now houses the archive, because Charlie has decided to share the coach house with Baxter.
Could be part of the downstairs drawing room.
Second Floor
Under the eaves, front from left to right are two bedrooms and one bathroom, then the connecting door, then another two rooms (that was the butler’s suite) and a bathroom.
The same happens at the back, though there, one of the bathrooms is now Ned’s darkroom, and the other also houses some of the old archive. The other upstairs rooms are used for storage.
Simeon and Ronny may get to use one of the left-side suites one day.
Servants’ stairs at either end of the house lead down to the basement.
Basement
The back door is at the left end of the property, nearer the gates and opposite the stables.
Max has his suite of rooms at the front with a bathroom, sitting room, bedroom and a door into his pantry/office, which also houses the plate safe.
The right-hand front basement area is for Mrs Sparks, though she has no plate safe, but an extra room which the boys are using as a bedroom.
At the back, though, the scullery, kitchen and stores are at the left end of the house, the servant’s hall (now the dining room) is in the centre, and there are more rooms for stores or bedrooms at the right-hand end, back.
There are plenty of cupboards in the basement, and a door leads down to the cellar.
The Yard
The stables with three horses are opposite the backdoor across the yard. There are three stalls, a tack room, a tiny office with a desk, and a storeroom.
The coach house is above, with the stairs up (enclosed) at the right-hand end of the building.
Beside this and back towards the rear wall is the machine room with the two boilers, and other equipment, stores, etc.
This yard takes up half the length of Delamere House and is separated from the garden by a wall. A gardener keeps the garden.
The Coach House
Entering the upstairs apartment from the stairs, you’re faced with a corridor. First, on the right is the kitchen, while the sitting room is on the left.
Next to the sitting room, front, is Baxter’s bedroom. The spare room (now Charlie’s) is at the back overlooking the park. Both are a decent size. The bathroom is in the middle/back between Charlie’s room and the kitchen. There is also an attic space, which isn’t much used.
This is roughly how I see the house from the front, though there would have been nothing 21st century about it. There may have been a flag on Clearwater’s house next door, but Delamere in 1893 wasn’t an embassy or whatever this is…
The other day, I spent an hour or so fiddling with a movie maker, some photos and some royalty-free music, and came up with another reel for my Facebook page. It’s basically an attempt to publicise the books, and I ought to do more; one for the Clearwater series and one for the Larkspur collection, and then, maybe, I should look at the other books, the romances and standalone mysteries and adventures. It’s all rather time-consuming, and I’m not brilliant at working with the video technology, nor do I have much patience when it comes to searching out useable images from the past, but I’ll see what I can do.
I’ve also been working on Holywell Street, and my print of it from the Museum of London has arrived, so I can have that printed and framed (purely for my own interest). I am now up to chapter 10 of the first draft, around 35,000 words, and the mystery is deepening as Jack and Baxter investigate. They are being ‘assisted’ by Ronny in this one, who is keen to better himself, learn about horses and driving, and who is, apparently, on his best behaviour because he wants to have a bedroom of his own. (He’s still swearing, though.)
Although it’s Easter weekend here in Greece (and elsewhere), I am at work. Well, I am doing a little work, so I thought I would do one of those posts where I share my view. I am currently sitting at the computer table (not shown), and my desk is behind me. It’s all a bit messy at the moment as I was doing some research yesterday and haven’t put the books away. I was looking for a quote, so the blue book on the left is the Oxford Dictionary of Quotations. Beside that is the Complete Works of Shakespeare, and then comes my larger notebook where I was reminding myself of Jack Merrit’s year of birth (1866, which makes him 26/27 in book eight of the Delamere Files). On top of that I have my smaller notebook, which goes back to pre-Deviant Desire days and holds all the info for the Clearwater series and most of the Larkspur series. Then comes the Oxford book of Modern Grammar, which I dip in and out of, and still get my grammar wrong at times. Finally, my A to Z street maps of London, dated 1888 (the maps, not the book).
As you can see, the desk needs dusting.
Also on it is the compass I used in the Larkspur Legacy, a model of a sextant, more notebooks, a tankard I bought 100 years ago in Cornwall, one of my magnifying glasses, and half a coconut shell I bought in Split, Croatia, on my honeymoon because I liked the colour.
Now then, let’s tour that side of the room from left to right, starting with the photo board top left, which contains images of my grandfather (in his priest robes), my dad and uncle when young, me and my brothers, and my nephew. Beneath that is a photo of the waterfalls at Plitvice Lakes National Park (Plitvička jezera), also in Croatia. On the wall beneath the clock that has never worked is a tapestry of a house we used to live in back on Romney Marsh, and the portrait is of my uncle when he was in his 30s. The second row of the bookcase is all Jackson Marsh books, and the rest are research books and my limited edition reprint of Dracula. The flag is the flag of Romney Marsh. By the desk, the box contains wedding memorabilia, and on it is my clarinet and the oboe I still can’t play, while the LV trunk beneath the window contains all our photos. I’ve had that trunk since I was eight, but the thing itself dates from 1912, and the inside has seen better days. The small one on top of it contains stationery, and the old minidisc and CD players need to be put or thrown away.
There you have it. One side of my office described on a day when I can think of nothing else to tell you, other than I will be here next week with a catch up of where I am with ‘Holywell Street’ (chapter eight at about 26,000 words, today), and to give you another chance to boost some indie authors by clicking around these promos where you can pick up new titles and bargains. Happy Easter!
In today’s work in progress blog, I am pleased to tell you that I am now working on chapter seven of ‘Holywell Street’, and the story is progressing well. Hopefully, those aren’t famous last words and the story will continue to flow. It should do because I know where I am going (to a certain point) and by the time I get there, I will have discovered where I am to go after that, and so on until the end. I am already 25,000 words through it and that’s only in about a week, because I have little other work to contend with right now. That, in turn, means I’m pretty poor, but I continue to promote indie authors through my promotions (there’s another on to check out at the bottom of the post), and my loyal fans continue to read, while I pick up a few new readers along the way.
So far in ‘Holywell Street’ we have met two unscrupulous characters, and then we have started the story in Delamere House, where there have been some changes, mainly in the layout of rooms and in the staff. There are now five detectives, two of whom are in charge of research and records, and the other three are more out-and-about, Jack and Baxter included, and the boys still haven’t grown up. Soon, I aim to put on the blog a description of how the house is now organised. I wrote this for myself rather than to go into a book, but I will share it with you when I’m sure that’s how things are going to be.
A character in the new book and the cause of the mystery…
While I get back to creating book eight of the series, I’ll leave you with this promo. It’s a new one and only started on 9th April, so it has a while to run. Have a click, have a browse, and you never know, you may find another new and exciting author to follow.
Tales to Devour. Begin Reading This Hour!
April 9th through to May 10th.Genres: General Fiction / Literary Fiction, Mystery & Suspense / Mystery, and Sci-Fi & Fantasy / Science Fiction
As you know, I’m a great believer in research and getting it right. By that I mean, I can spend an hour searching for something to fit my story, for example, the name of a street, or a quote that was in existence at the time of the story that the character would have known, even an advertisement for a product, simply to add accurate detail. If no such thing existed, I have to make up my own, but I still like to keep it as real as possible.
While starting on ‘Holywell Street’, I have been trying to do just that. I have chosen the address that’s of interest to my detectives as number eight, because, in 1891, it looks like it was empty.
I have a character who is a dentist, and I have named him after one of London’s largest chains of dental practices at the time. I have him washing his hands with Pear’s soap, but my detective suggests he tries Vinolia because it had recently won a hygiene award. I took that info from an advert in a London newspaper of April 1893 when the story is set.
This week, while looking around for more information on Holywell Street, or ‘Bookseller’s Row’ as it was called up until it was demolished (or later, ‘Pornographer’s Row’), I stumbled upon a picture archive I’d missed. This is the London Picture Archive, and it contains thousands of images of London locations through the centuries. I ordered myself a PDF file of a Holywell Street image (which should arrive soon and which I will then have printed), and this, with the watermark still on, is it. It’s actually from 1900, but the street wouldn’t have changed much in between, and I’ve always liked the symmetry of architectural-style drawings. This could well be a Dalston Blaze, although it’s actually by Alfred Bennett-Bamford.
Another site I picked up this week is Green’s Dictionary of Slang, a great addition to my copy of Gorse’s ‘The Vulgar Tongue.’ That is an addition to another book about slang I have downloaded to my Kindle. Why so much slang? Well, of my (now) five detectives, three are from the East End, one is from rural Cornwall, and one is from the Kent marshes, so dialect and slang will play a part in their everyday speech. Then, we have foul-mouthed Ronny in the basement, not to mention his brother, who is, these days, slightly better spoken because he idolises Jack, who is trying hard to become a gentleman despite his own vernacular.
This image from Green’s Dictionary’s timeline shows how handy the resource is, because you can trawl the timeline to see, in their estimation, what was in use at what time in what decade. Here, we have 1890s slang associated with homosexuality. (And, in some cases, such as backscuttle heterosexual behaviour too.)
I have added a few other website and book links to my research folder, including one intriguingly headed, ‘the great manure crisis of 1894’ but that will have to wait until the Delamere series has moved into that year.
In the meantime, what I have below is a link to my new BlueSky account (which I am starting to use when I have time) in case you want to follow and hook up, and a link to one of the promotions still running this month if you want to give that a boost.
Today, I am over the water in Rhodes, but I thought I’d jot something down for today ahead of time, and include two new promotions, one of which starts today.
Firstly, though, Holywell Street, The Delamere Mysteries book eight…
I have started on chapter four of the first draft, and so far so good in terms of flow. However, I need to take a pause to get a few things straight in my head, or else I will be typing for hours only to rip the pages from the invisible typewriter and have to start again.
Having what I call first draft ideas on the page isn’t a bad thing, but you have to be able to tell the difference between talking to yourself and writing a novel. For example, by the time Holywell Street opens, the dynamic in Delamere House has shifted, and so has some of the furniture. I write out a couple of pages of what was what, and what room has changed to what, but this isn’t for the book, it’s to get things straight in my own mind.
As an example, what was the sitting room is now an office housing Baxter and Charlie, with a desk also for Jack who, though he now has the study, often prefers to work alongside his men.
One day, I’ll put up a fuller description so you can take a walk with me around Delamere Houe, but I shall need to draw a plan, and I’m not very good at that. If anyone has an architect’s program that will draw rooms/layouts and wants to draw me a floorplan…
Never mind, I’ll get to it one day. So, the news is that Book Eight is progressing at the rate of roughly half a chapter a day, and I hope it’s another intriguing case. Meanwhile, ‘Acts of Faith’ is doing well and proving popular – thank you for the private messages! And I am off to get ready for a day on a different island, so… back soon.
If you want to help these indie authors by clicking these two new promotions and having a browse or a buy, feel free to do so. The second one only comes online today – which is tomorrow as I write, which is why the image is faint. It will be fine when you click through.
Historical Fiction Romance & Mysteries
Genres: General Fiction / Historical Fiction, Mystery & Suspense / Historical Mystery, and Romance / Historical
Click the banner
Tales to Devour. Begin Reading This Hour!
Genres: General Fiction / Literary Fiction, Mystery & Suspense / Mystery, and Sci-Fi & Fantasy / Science Fiction
Click the link
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