Thursday, 21 July 2011

VICTORIAN MISSES.





Victorian Misses - Janet Woods

A friend stated that young women did not go out without a chaperone in Victorian Britain. These general sorts of statements don’t sit all that well with me, and this is why. Queen Victoria reigned for over 60 years, and over that time the world changed and progressed considerably.

I’ve written several books set in the “Victorian age.” “Hearts of Gold” started almost at the end of Victoria’s reign in the late 1890s. The heroine was a brat from the goldfields, sent to England by her mentor. My current release, “Lady Lightfingers" is also set in the “Victorian age” but fifty years earlier, and in the London slums. “A Dorset Girl” saga was set in the 1830s, earlier still. What did they have in common? Very little, except the heroines were not members of the privileged classes. Each book was researched separately for the period within that age, to make it authentic to its particular time.

Did the Victorians write books of etiquette for the majority of working class women? I doubt it. Most books of manners were designed for those who could afford to indulge in it. Fashion catalogues display silks and satin gowns, accessories such as kid gloves, fans and hats all through the period. Victorian ladies didn’t all wear hooped crinolines. Skirts got wider as Victoria's reign progressed then narrowed down and grew bustles, which were lost as the Edwardians indulged in a more elegant style. The same economics that applied then,apply now. The majority of lower middle class young women couldn’t afford designer wear, or chaperones . . . or even underwear come to that. It stands to reason that they couldn’t afford several changes of outfit, but might have a special one kept for Sunday best, weddings and funerals.

In 1891 women were told that, legally, they could no longer be forced to live with a man if they didn’t want to. This was a two-edged sword. Divorce brought scandal with it for the female, and usually loss of her children. Without income, often the alternative was to starve to death or take up prostitution.

Even Queen Victoria must have regarded herself as her husband’s chattel, for she was reported as saying, from her lofty position of top hen in her glittering henhouse – thus setting back the women's movement by a number of years, I imagine – “Let women be what God intended, a helpmate for her man, but with totally different duties and values.” With total respect, I wonder how she knew what He intended, and would she have said the same, had she been one of the 1,740,000 female domestic servants in England struggling to stay alive? Many maids in Victoria’s time took the occasional man to bed for supplemental income. They were called dollymops . . . very apt.
Victoria and Albert produced nine offspring, I believe. Of course, Queen Victoria never had to make ends meet, and (bless her) I wouldn’t like to have lived her life.

My mother’s child-raising wisdom came from clichéd and sometimes cutting little proverbs from her Victorian upbringing. I’ve been careful not to pass them on to my own. “Children should be seen and not heard. Spare the rod and spoil the child. You’ve made your bed, now you must lie on it. Pride goes before a fall . . . etc.”

Thank goodness we reach a point in life where we can think and reason for ourselves, and wonder at some of the tosh we accepted as wisdom. Unfortunately those wisdoms weren’t tosh to them. They were a necessary part of discipline. Mostly it was rule by fear, though that in its turn taught us respect. I was scared of anything with an official feel or a uniform attached to it – policemen, teachers, parents, priests, soldiers, bus conductors and fatherly lectures all signified authority. It didn’t stop me rebelling, even though one of my teachers was a reincarnation of Sweeny Todd, except she used a ruler instead of a razor.

So, our characters should be true to life, too. They should be encouraged to step out of the rule book and live their own lives. Over the sixty-year span that was the “Victorian Age” women weren’t all laced tightly into corsets, either metaphorically or literally). If we wrap historical characters in rigid rules, manners and clichés they’ll come across as cardboard, or at the very least, clones.

When I look at the “Victorian age” it has lots to commend it. On the industrial front, there were engineering breakthroughs, sewerage disposal was improved and railways networked. There was a certain amount of hypocrisy too – child labour, wars, forced immigration and starvation. But nothing was static. Advances were made in industry, medical and moral mores – too many keep up with. Bear in mind that change didn’t happen in all parts of England at the same time. The rural south trailed behind the industrialized north. So while some people enjoyed the luxury of train travel another part of the country might still be bumping around the countryside in a wagon.

Unless you can travel back through time it’s impossible to know how people actually acted or spoke in the past. Sure, they wrote letters, essays and books, and yes, I imagine somebody wrote a rule book. Writing is a more formal way of expression than speech. We all act differently when we’re on public view, but relax at home. When we write we don’t stutter or hum and har on the page. We don’t have people interrupting and turning our train of thought to something else, we don’t use body language to help people understand meaning, like we do face to face. We stick to the point.

Women wouldn’t have gone out without a chaperone? Some women, perhaps. But not the working classes.

Remember the early TV ads, where the lady of the house wore stilettos, make-up, beehive hairdos and false eyelashes, when they cleaned the oven with greasy goop? Did we all dress like that to clean the house in? Nuff said!

Friday, 8 July 2011

R.I.P. Iain/Emma Blair

Most historical saga readers won't know of the name Iain Blair, but they do know of Emma Blair, the author of over 30 saga novels. Sadly Iain Blair died on July 3rd, leaving behind him a legacy of great stories.


From his website:

Iain wrote a number of plays for theatre and television and then naturally progressed to book writing. At first he tried writing thrillers without much success. Then he completed a saga Where No Man Cries and that's when Emma Blair was born. His publishers decided he'd sell far more books simply by being published as a woman. 

"I was given absolutely no choice in the matter.  They'd decided on a sex change and even the name. So that was that. Emma I became and Emma I've stayed," says Iain. "Many people ask me what kind of person Emma is. Well she's probably about late forties, a bit of a tough cookie and had a certain amount of personal tragedy which is why she writes with such passion."



I've read several of his books and enjoyed them very much. Like all good saga authors he was able to take the reader back to a time when life was different to what we know of now.

With his passing, another saga author has gone.

 To read more about Iain Blair visit his website:
http://emma-blair.com/content/view/33/37/

Monday, 20 June 2011

Suffragettes

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 - now released.

Saturday, 18 June 2011

The Thrill of Seeing the Cover for the First Time

I’ve just received the cover artwork of this year’s novel IN THE BLEAK MIDWINTER and it looks stunning. A girl in a blue coat stares pensively from this cover, soldiers in the background returning from the Great War and street urchins following them. I must say that every time I see the cover of each book for the first time, I am blown away. But this one is really breathtaking and my thanks go to the Simon & Schuster team who made it possible. I also have a few lines at the top from Jean Fullerton, a wonderful East End author, who like myself, specializes in East End novels. On the back page, there’s a note for Dilly Court and Katie Flynn fans, who might like to read another gripping story written in the same genre. So from now until October it’s my job to profile my book to a loyal core readership and those new to the Rivers books. Here’s what Amazon has to say about IN THE BLEAK MIDWINTER. (Hardcover August, Paperback October)

“Winter 1919. Two months after the Armistice that ended the Great War, and life in London's East End is slowly returning to normal. But for 25-year-old Birdie Connor the battle is only just beginning. Frank, Birdie's older brother, has been sent to prison for deserting his army post whilst fighting in Belgium, and the shame heaped on the Connor family by their neighbours is unrelenting. Wilfred, Birdie's widowed father, has disowned Frank and vows that he will never set eyes on his son again, but Birdie cannot believe that her brother is guilty So when Frank escapes from prison and comes to find Birdie in secret, she promises to help him and is determined to prove his innocence. But little does she realise that she is exposing herself to danger as Frank gets himself deeper and deeper into trouble with the so-called friends he met in prison. Helped by the Connors' lodger, the handsome Harry Chambers, will Birdie be able to find the proof that Frank needs in time to reconcile him to their frail father before it is too late? And can she build a future to keep herself and her younger brother, Patrick, safe?

Thursday, 9 June 2011

Just released! The House of Women

I'm so excited that my historical novel, The House of Women, is now released.

Blurb

    Leeds. 1870. Lonely and brokenhearted, Grace Woodruff fights for her sisters’ rights to happiness while sacrificing any chance for her own.
   The eldest of seven daughters, Grace is the core of strength around which the unhappy members of the Woodruff family revolve. As her disenchanted mother withdraws to her rooms, Grace must act as a buffer between her violent, ambitious father and the sisters who depend upon her. Rejected by her first love and facing a spinster’s future, she struggles to hold the broken family together through her father’s infidelity, one sister’s alcoholism, and another’s out-of-wedlock pregnancy by an unsuitable match.
   Caring for an illegitimate half-brother affords Grace an escape, though short-lived. Forced home by illness and burdened with dwindling finances, Grace faces fresh anguish –and murder– when her first love returns to wreck havoc in her life.  All is not lost, however. In the midst of tragedy, the fires of her heart are rekindled by another. Will the possibility of true love lead Grace to relinquish her responsibilities in the house of women and embrace her own right to happiness?

Excerpt

Grace blinked to clear her frozen mind as her mother and Verity climbed the staircase. If Verity was here then was William here too? Movement at the door caused Grace to close her eyes. She couldn’t bring herself to open them and see the one man she’d longed for since she was sixteen.
        ‘Miss Woodruff?’ Doyle inquired at her shoulder.
        Startled, she spun to face him, but she was blind to him, blind to everything but the sensation of having William here. Crazily, she wondered if she would swoon like a maiden aunt.
        Doyle’s hand reached out, but he quickly tucked it behind his back. ‘What is it, Miss Woodruff?’
       Grace swallowed, feeling the fine hairs on her arms and nape prickle. He is here.
       'Good evening, Grace.’
       At the sound of William’s deep velvety voice, her heart stopped beating, only to start again at a rapid pace. Her stomach clenched and her legs felt unable to support her anymore. Slowly, she swivelled to gaze into William’s blue-green eyes and knew she was lost again. William smiled his captivating smile. He had aged, no, matured since their last meeting. He looked leaner, but broader in the shoulders. There was an aura about him, something that females of any age wanted. He made all other men around him seem insignificant. A magnetism, a mystical air surrounded him, catching Grace in its clutches once more.

Order The House of Women from Amazon.com, or The Book Depository, which has free postage and currently on discount.
http://www.bookdepository.com/House-Women-Anne-Whitfield/9780956790187

 For more information about me or my books, please visit my website.
http://www.annewhitfield.com

Friday, 3 June 2011

LADY LIGHTFINGERS



LADY LIGHTFINGERS
Janet Woods
Severn House
Hardcover release UK 30th June.

Celia Laws has a past to be ashamed of – by necessity, living in the London slums and on the wrong side of the law. Notably, by perfecting the art of being a pick-pocket, whilst at the same time, trying not to disappoint her mother, who is battling the odds trying to keep her daughter respectable .

After her mother dies she attracts the attention of budding lawyer, Charles Curtis, who offers her a fortune to part with her innocence. Celia takes the money and runs.
Taken in by her aunt, she makes a new life for herself.

But her past comes back to haunt her in the form of Charles Curtis, who doesn't recognize the beautiful young woman as the ragged waif from the London slums he once tried to buy. They fall in love, and the background Celia has been so careful to hide begins to unravel as her conscience begins to plague her.

Thursday, 26 May 2011

More good digital news for us...

Wonderful authors like our own Freda Lightfoot have paved the way for authors wanting to join the digital platform of ebooks. I'm blogging on this because it's been a few weeks of great esurprises,with the trade news assuring us that ebook sales are accelerating. Ebooks are here to stay and by the looks of it, may well become the most interesting topic of web discussion, including our own specialized arena of historical fiction. We may not even have to call it historical soon, for the tags to our work are changing too as a new and hungry readership wades in to confirm the wonderful news. Although Maureen Lee isn't a member here, what a fabulous writer she is! And this week launched her very own ebook, self-published, a departure from her normal genre of saga to a thriller called DUSK. Each morning there seems to be news of a new digital triumph, with sales of ebooks both in this country and abroad contesting those of paperbacks and hardbacks. All my online digests burst with ebook headlines. Ereader statistics prove this exciting new world is open to everyone who wants a piece of the digital action. Many authors are going it alone, without publishers, and achieving great success. They look to people like J.A Konrath, Barry Eisler and our own amazing authors like Linda Gillard and Freda and any number of us here on this forum, published by mainstream publishers and indeed, ourselves. How exciting are these times! If we feel our rejected novel should be published then it can be! Linda Gillard’s wonderful novel HOUSE OF SILENCE was rejected by mainstream publishers and so she decided to turn it into an ebook. Just a few weeks after she uploaded it, HOS hit the top of the ebook charts and stayed there. So the way is open to us all, if we are of a mind. I bought a Kindle at the beginning of the year and can’t imagine life without it. Somehow I read more, enjoy more, and love the computerized voice that allows me to rest my eyes or use my earphones as a welcome alternative to reading. The “little grey slate” as it’s known, is a miracle of invention for all ages, together with its brothers of different makes, shapes and sizes. It's such a tremendous time to be alive - and for historical writers the best!

Saturday, 14 May 2011

Free historical short story

 
My historical short story, A New Dawn, is now available for FREE on my publisher's website.
Burb
Escaping a brutal father, Briony runs to James, the man she loves.
With his family’s blessing, they marry and prepare for a new life in a new country – America.
A wedding gift of two tickets to travel on an ocean liner is a wonderful surprise.
Full of anticipation and hope, they set sail.
Only, fate has sent them a challenge that tests, not just their strength and love, but their very survival.

Thursday, 28 April 2011

Love With a Capital L


On this special Eve, a sincere wish of good luck to every wedding couple, for marriage is still held by many to be the formula for happiness. Authors write about romance because their belief in Love is strong. At the heart of a cracking good Love Story, there is the couple who defy all obstacles to achieve their desire to be with one another eternally. The royal wedding this year sheds enchantment over our TV screens and flows out to the world, through the lens of the cameras. It's a moment in time, for Love and Lovers, captured in history for all to remember. My husband painted this picture for me when we married. It told of a midsummer Love and our dream of marrying under a canopy of trees in a bluebell wood or perhaps at Huddlesbury Head on the sea shore, late on a summer's night. Luckily our Love survived without nature's enchantment - or perhaps because of it. So here's to Love and Lovers everywhere, and may they all be blessed with eternal magic, because we all know it's Love (with a capital L) that makes us all truly eternal!

Thursday, 14 April 2011

Dead easy...right?

Many moons ago, in the land that time forgot, when lost in thrall to my very first attempt with M&B historicals, I read Mary Wibberley, a dedicated Mills & Boon author who wrote a How To book, that surely must be a classic. To mention her name now still gives me the goose bumps; the anticipation, excitement, hope and youth all mixed together in a heady cocktail of oh-how-much-I-want to be published! Along with her marvellous advice, came the 13 rules of how romance/plot/character should evolve. I wonder if anyone else remembers them? If my memory serves me well (which could be in doubt) they went something like this;

13 step structure for romance plots

1. Heroines social identity is destroyed

2. She reacts antagonistically to hero.

3. Hero responds ambiguously to her.

4. She interprets this as sexual interest.

5. She responds to his behaviour with anger or coldness

6. Hero retaliates by punishing her

7. They are physically and/or emotionally separated

8. Hero treats heroine tenderly

9. She responds warmly to his act of tenderness

10. She reinterprets his ambiguous behaviour as the product of previous hurt

11. Hero proposes his love for/demonstrates his unwavering commitment to heroine with a supreme act of tenderness.

12. Heroine responds sexually and emotionally

13. Her identity is restored.

Hmm, pretty straightforward, I thought (then). Let's have a bash. 2011, and I'm not quite so certain!

Monday, 4 April 2011

Worth the cost: Researching

For any historical author, and most contemporary set writers, too, researching has to be done to make the book read as authentic as possible.
The smallest item can seem suddenly very interesting, and also extremely difficult to find the history about! Hours can be spent pouring over library books and the Internet searching for the right answer. We tear our hair out wondering if a certain item was invented and widely used in our period, etc. it can be terribly frightening, but also very rewarding when we do find the correct answer. I think it is very important for historical authors to get the period they write – right! However, that said, we are only human and we make mistakes no matter how hard we try not to. We can’t know everything (although we like to think we do) and that’s where different types of researching comes into it.


Sometimes, if we are lucky, we can travel to the places we set our books. Visiting castles, manor houses, streets and landscapes all help us to ‘see’ the place as our characters do. Of course over the years places and buildings change, but we have imaginations, good ones as writers do, and we can see how it would look through our characters’ eyes. taking numerous photos of one building, hill, village or street becomes common place for a writer.


Aside from traveling to a place, we can use our TVs and watch documentaries and movies to help set the mood. One of the best DVDs I have for my research is a walking guide to places around the Calder valley and Hebden Bridge area of West Yorkshire. Thankfully, I have been to that area myself, but if I hadn't just by watching the dvd I could see the steepness of the walks, the hills, etc, and that information would help write the book.






Research books are one of my favourite expenses. There is nothing like buying a large research book filled with interesting information and beautiful pictures to capture my imagination. I can never have enough of them. I sigh over them like some women sigh over a gorgeous pair of Jimmy Choo shoes or a Gucci handbag. Tragic, I know. But I don't want the cure.




Thursday, 31 March 2011

Senior Moments

We've all talked about forward planning in our lives and no less enthusiastically after the family has flown. One thing a writer knows at the beginning of her new project, is that it will be approximately a nine-month odyssey of labour and delivery, that in many ways reflect a familiar pattern. It's not a pink or blue nursery with pretty mobiles that I'm preparing, but an internal journey, shadowed with voices and unknown movement. I'll make, not visits to Marks&Sparks baby department, but epost an outline/synopsis to my editor and describe the life I hope to create. I've a name, not Sarah or Stephen, but a working title, and a form in my head that can't be detected by a scan, but by a place in my brain/heart called the subconscious. Each day a little weight adds to the embryo and the heartbeat suddenly kicks in, more than likely waking me up from a deep sleep. The little feet don't kick but the ideas tumble around, like a panic delivery from an online Tesco shop. In a sweat, I sit up and wonder what the heck I'm doing yet again at the beginning that white water ride of gestation. How do I connect with my baby before the weight piles on? How much knowledge of this mysterious creature is embedded in my mind? What do I have to do, to ensure a safe delivery? All my various strategies pale into fear and desperation in the middle of that dark night. I mop my brow and peer into the gloom. I've been through it all before; the relaxation, meditation, contemplation, and frustration. Shall I really do it all over again? And then the first light of dawn spills through the window. The ideas are subtly whispered through this inner child's voice. The whisper is so faint that it feels as though the minute I have it, the next, it's gone. But it will come again and I should have more faith. I know I am committed and that delivery date will happen, as it always has, within a predictable margin of time. I get up and make a cup of tea and gaze out at the trees and flowers, the first blush of spring that spills over the hedge. And I welcome this pregnancy and my invisible embryo, knowing that I'll be able to eat as many pickled gherkins as I fancy without being sick. I may not have a nursery, a set of three lemon babygrows and a wardrobe full of Pampers to organize, but I do have a blush-pink memory stick and sky-blue laptop, a Wi-Fi modem and an IPod. And sipping that first drop of Yorkshire Tea, I ask myself what senior-moment-writer could ask for more than this?

Anita Burgh: Bagpipes and Bullshot. Janice Horton

My blog has been seriously neglected of late and I apologise but life has a habit of interfering with the best laid plans. However, my friend, Janice Horton has jogged me into writing of my interview with her.


Janice lives in Scotland and writes humorous contemporary women's novels which are inspired by the beauty of the heather-filled glens around her country cottage. When she’s not writing novels she writes lifestyle articles and has had work published in national magazines and regional newspapers. She’s also been involved in BBC Scotland's ‘Write Here Write Now’ project.

Have you always wanted to write?

Janice: I’ve had romantic notions about being a writer since I was a little girl. Enid Blyton was a favourite inspiration in the early days. I had a garden shed with ‘SS’ on the door in which I sat writing my own ‘Secret Seven’ books starring me, of course, and my brothers and friends. A few years later, I was still sitting in the shed, only writing pony stories inspired by Ruby Ferguson’s ‘Jill Books’.

Anita: Blyton was an extraordinary woman and despite the PC brigade still so popular. She must have inspired many.

How long have you been writing?

Janice: I began to write seriously ten years ago, and by that I mean with the intention of being published.

You are published in fiction and non fiction. Which do you prefer?

Janice: I really enjoy writing lifestyle articles for national magazines and regional newspapers but I absolutely love to write fiction. My first novel, When We First Love, was published in 2004 by a small publisher, which unfortunately went out of business just as I’d completed my second book, ‘Beneath Apricot Skies’ which I self-published. My latest venture is to indie e-book publish on Amazon Kindle with my novel ‘Bagpipes & Bullshot’. I’m excited to explore this intriguing new publishing media.

Anita: I think everyone in the publishing business are fascinated by the e-publishing phenomena, I certainly am. Do let us all know how it goes.

You work, you write, you blog, you have a family, you have animals, I am exhausted listing them all. How and when and where do you find and make time to write?

Janice: I don’t write every day, although I’d love to. A typical morning for me is sorting out admin and doing accounts. I run a small graphic design company that I set up years ago. After lunch, except on a Thursday, I work in the village as a legal secretary. So after seeing to the family, walking the dogs, and attending to the hens, it just leaves a few stolen hours in the evenings and one afternoon to write – unless, for the sake of my sanity, I take Time Out. This means taking a couple of days when I sit with my laptop at the kitchen table in front of the Aga, or on the sofa next to the fire and make it quite clear to everyone, dogs and hens included, that I’m U-N-A-V-A-I-L-A-B-L-E. I will not cook. I will not answer the phone and I will write all day without any interruptions. I stay up late. In fact, I might not go to bed at all, but if I do, it will be for a couple of hours of my own choosing. Sometimes, as a writer, extreme measures are required or we might never write all the stories trying to burst out of our heads or record the cacophony of voices resonating in our ears.

Anita: You are so right. There has to be an element of ruthlessness when writing, I’m sure. However, I do believe this is a problem mainly for women writers. We lack that essential ingredient for having the time – a wife!

Tell us why you have chosen to e-publish.

Janice: For two reasons: the first was that having been previously published both traditionally and independently, I couldn’t resist the challenge of having a go at e-publishing with Bagpipes & Bullshot, especially on Kindle because distribution and marketing on Amazon are so well established. The second reason was that I unexpectedly fell in love with the Kindle my husband bought me last Christmas and wanted to have my own books on it!

Anita: It certainly seems to be the way forward. We are writing in interesting times.

Who has influenced you the most?

Janice: I don’t know if I’m influenced by anyone actually, because I’m pretty independently minded. I can be inspired and I can take advice, in fact I actively seek it, but I don’t think that’s the same as being influenced. I tend to adopt ideas only if they meld with my own mindset or help me to achieve a predetermined goal. I admire others and have great respect for people who can do things better than I - but I’d rather innovate than imitate.

Anita: I’m surprised by your answer. Most authors I know have someone. For me it is Dickens, I read him and I loved him and I wanted to try and create worlds and people like his, even if they are pale shadows compared to his genius.

What advice would you give someone just setting out?

Janice: I would say write from the heart and listen to your Inner Voice.

Anita: Oh yes, that voice the only one you can really rely on.

Can you tell us about your novel in one sentence?

Janice: Bagpipes & Bullshot is a contemporary romance novel which twists an everyday love story with a whole cast of village eccentrics into an entertaining play on rural life.

What are you planning in the way of promotion for Bagpipes & Bullshot?

Janice: Well, it’s very difficult to get a new e-book noticed by potential readers unless it features on one or more of Amazon’s Top 100 charts, but because of the way Amazon calculates its sales, just a few sales on one particular day can make all the difference in pushing it through the charts. I’ll be blogging and tweeting all day on Friday 1st April my publication day.

For direction to all of the other places I’ll be appearing on my Blog Tour throughout the day please visit www.janicehortonwriter.blogspot.com I’ll also be running a prize draw on my blog (Friday 1st April only) to win Kindle Beach Protectors (an essential and stylish accessory for every Kindle but alternatively you could always use it to protect your camera or phone!) All you have to do to be in with a chance to win one is go to my blog and leave a comment or ReTweet one of my tweets using the hashtag: #bagpipes.

Anita: Thank you, Janice. Let’s hope you have a resounding success, you should, you’ve worked so hard at the promotional side.

Monday, 7 March 2011

House of Angels

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

Wednesday, 2 March 2011

The Oasis


I'm just researching the 1920 and 30's, the wilder element of those days! As usual I found a little international gem that led me astray, but thought it would make an entertaining post. Has anyone heard of the Garden of Allah, Sunset Boulevard, Hollywood? Nor had I, but apparently, Alla Nazimova, a mysterious, beautiful and hedonistic silent movie star, producer, stage actress and visionary, plus being a former concert violinist, created this wonderful oasis for the benefit of her actor chums. Nazimova converted her well-situated 1921 mansion estate into a three and a half acre semi-tropical hangout for the benefit of the following Names.Gloria
Swanson, Greta Garbo, John Barrymore, Clara Bow, Buster Keaton, Ramon Navarro, the Marx Brothers (especially Harpo), Ava Gardner, Errol Flynn, Humphrey Bogart, Lauren Bacall, Ernest Hemingway, Lillian Hellman, Joe E. Lewis, Artie Shaw, Marlene Dietrich, George Kaufman and Larry Olivier. Not everybody wanted to be seen there - like Orson Wells because of the tangle of phony marriages, the fist-fights, the liquor,recreational sex, drugs, robberies and drunken rages that made up the era. Having their souls consumed by the Hollywood system, orgies, more robberies, feuds, money problems and sudden changes of plan caused the Garden of Allah to gain quite a bohemian reputation. I could have lingered in this fire-breathing, head-spinning, seductive area of research, but sadly my charaters are ducking and diving in the East End of London - though, take away the palm trees and champagne, there might not be such a leap of imagination...

Monday, 28 February 2011

Learning something new every day.


As a native East Ender I pride myself that I know the London docks and the Wapping and Shadwell area of Stepney pretty well. I should do. My family, the Fullertons, have lived in and around St George’s in the East for the past two years but one of the joys of being a historical writer is that you discover such wonderful snippets of knowledge as you go along.
For example, I remembered in the early 60s that the west end of Cable Street was a no-go area for respectable women as it was rife with prostitution and the seedy strip joint that were no more than cafes with rickety tables. But I didn’t know that a century earlier the densely populated other end was nicknamed Knockfergus because of the Irish family who lived there. It’s actual cited on some old maps.
But it’s not just the area that gives me a surprise or two but some of the jobs and industries also.
In my latest book, Perhaps Tomorrow, my heroine, Mattie Maguire, is a young widow who is trying to make ends meet running the family coal yard. This might seem simple enough but the story is set in 1847. Coal was the Victorian’s petrol and vast quantities were needed for both domestic and industrial uses. OK I that information can be found on any history website or book but what about the day to day details Mattie would have to grapple with? Like, what were the different grades? How much a tone was? Was it always sold by the hundredweight or could you buy a bucket to tide you over until the end of the week? And what about the delivery men and their wagons?
Of course, Mattie’s story isn’t about coal. It’s about her struggle to keep the family’s East End business solvent, while she raises her young son and cares for her troubled mother-in-law and how everything she has worked for is threated because corrupt local benefactor Amos Stebbins. Help is at hand, in the handsome shape of fugitive Nathaniel Tate. Nathaniel knows all about Amos as he was wrongfully imprisoned by him. On hearing of the death of his family Nathaniel escapes and tracks Amos, the man he holds responsible for their death, down to Maguire’s and meets Mattie, who offers him work. As Nathaniel begins to help Mattie turn around the fortunes of the business he starts to think less of revenge and more of the possibility of a new future with Mattie. But then his true identity is revealed. On the run from the police, Nathaniel has to prove his innocence, expose Amos, and win back the heart of Mattie. But a furious Amos has other plans…

In the story the coal, wagons and the day to day running of the yard are only mentioned in passing but when they are, the authentic details are there in order to transport you, the reader, back to a 19th century coal yard. Of course, to see if I’ve succeeded in that regard you’ll have to read Mattie’s story for yourself.

Perhaps Tomorrow
Orion Books
ISBN: 978-1409122913
£9.99 or less.

Friday, 25 February 2011

New cover: The House of Women



My Victorian historical novel, The House of Women, will be released May 9th!
more details soon.

Monday, 21 February 2011

FINDING INSPIRATION

FINDING INSPIRATION

I am often asked how I get the ideas for my books.  The answer is anywhere and everywhere: books, newspapers, things I've experienced, things people tell me, and a book might have more than one source of inspiration as in the case of THE SUMMER HOUSE, published in 2009 by Allison and Busby.
My grandmother was an indomitable lady who was midwife, nurse and confidante to the whole village of Necton in Norfolk from before the first World War until the coming of the National Health Service in 1948.  She was not unique in what she did, there were thousands of women doing the same job.  They were referred to as 'the handywoman' or 'the woman you sent for.'  And when she was sent for, she always went, whatever the time of day or night
            She lived with my grandfather and a maiden aunt on a small holding with no electricity, gas, main drains sewerage or telephone, just four walls and a roof and a few acres of land.  The loo was down the garden, the bath hung on a hook on the outside wall and the cooking was done on the kitchen range  When it got dark we sat by the light of an oil lamp and lit our way to bed with a candle.
Grandma was a fund of stories, told when something jogged her memory.  When she began with 'That time o'day,' she wasn't talking about hours and minutes but times gone by and I knew there was a story coming.  I heard about my grandfather's work as a shepherd, their disastrous wedding day, my mother's illness as an infant, helping the doctor take out a child's tonsils on the window sill of a cottage during an earthquake, about the first World War and the Zeppelins.  I soaked them all up and the result was her biography, The Mother of Necton..
I was evacuated to stay with her during the second world war and it was that time which was the initial inspiration for The Summer House.  WW2 is now considered history by publishers, which both amuses and horrifies me.  I remember it so vividly it seems like yesterday.  I remember the blackout, the blitz, rationing, shortages, the black market, the evacuees.  That did not mean I didn't have to do any research.  It is easy, looking back, to get times and dates wrong and things in the wrong sequence. The plot must fit the facts, not the other way about, though some of the films you see on TV nowadays seem to ignore that!   I had my background.  But background is only a part of it.  I needed characters and a plot.
Just after the war my mother worked in a home for unmarried mothers.  The girls (some of them very young) were taken there a few weeks before the birth to have their babies who were then taken away for adoption.  A week or two later were sent home and expected to get on with their lives as if nothing had happened.  She told me some heart-rending stories of what went on there and how she often had to take the new babies by train to London and hand them over on the station platform to another social worker who took them to their new parents.  That way mother and adoptive parents were kept as far from each other as possible.
That tale stuck in my memory.  I could not help wondering about the poor mothers and how they must have felt.  Could that be a basis for a story?   It was then I tried the what if exercise.  What if one of my characters had an illegitimate baby? In the second world war it was still a disgrace, though becoming more common.  In the Great War its impact would be even worse for the mother-to-be.  What if my mother-to–be was an aristocrat?  What if she was married to a serviceman who was away fighting in France?  What if the marriage was not happy and she fell in love with someone else?  What if he, too, was sent away to France, leaving her pregnant?  What if her parents insisted on having the child adopted?  How would she feel?  How would she cope?
I asked myself what kind of life would this baby have? What would her adoptive parents be like?  Rich or poor?  Why were they adopting?  Would she be cared for and loved?  Would she be told the story of her birth or would it be kept a secret from her?  What if the real mother does find her daughter again, how would she feel?  What could she do about it?

In answering those questions I had my story.

Sunday, 20 February 2011

Memories of You


My mother, the youngest of thirteen children, was a scholarship girl. At the age of fourteen her parents told her they could no longer afford to keep her at school and that she had to leave and work for her living. She ran away from home - all the way to London where she got a job in a big house. After a while she left domestic service and found work as a 'Nippy' in a Lyon's Corner House. Helen, the heroine of my new book, 'Memories of You', is taken away from grammar school at the age of fifteen and eventually ends up in London. Helen finds work in a cafe in Soho and discovers a new and exciting world. She not only falls in love, she makes an entirely new life for herself. So did my mother, make a new life that is. For the difference is that mother came home for a holiday, met my father, and never went back to London. Helen stays and I'm pretty sure my mother would have approved of the way the story ends.

Friday, 18 February 2011



My Family.

Spiked perhaps by the TV program “Who do you think you are?” I’ve recently developed an interest in discovering my ancestors. This is because we migrated to Australia from England over four decades ago, and it will give my children and those who come after, a back-story of family history.

Seeking out deceased relatives hasn’t become an obsession with me yet, but the more I uncover the more my curiosity is piqued, and the more the feeling of kinship with those who have departed grows.

Nothing remarkable has turned up yet. Both sides of the family I’ve managed to unearth so far were housekeepers, domestic gardeners, cattle dealers, brick-makers, chauffeurs, laundry-maids, fishermen and mothers.

And goodness, were they mothers! These women did it tough, with five, nine or even a dozen kids being a fairly normal brood - and the offspring being thinned out by disease, just as normal. Life is short when measured in decades, and it makes me wonder what humanity is all about sometimes. But this is the stuff historical sagas are made of, especially those that cross generations.

I always knew my “down south” paternal grandfather was a chauffeur. I have photographs of him in his uniform at the wheel of a Rolls Royce Silver Ghost. The copy of the County of London driving licence I have for him is dated 10th April 1911, and is valid for a year. However, by digging a little deeper I discovered he was a coachman before he drove a car, something I didn’t know. I’m in awe of anyone who can stay on a horse, let alone drive a team perhaps, and with a carriage attached.

My “up north” grandfather on the maternal side owned two fishing boats and he and his sons fished the North Sea. With a family of about eleven children to feed and clothe, life must have been extremely hard and dangerous. When I met him he also had an allotment.

Despite their humble occupations, there is pathos to be discovered . . . an uncle who died in the battle of Jutland at the tender age of 17. He was a boy seaman HMS Invincible his first ship. Imagine how excited and proud he must have been when he stepped on board for the first time. Then there are several infants in various churchyards who died of God knows what.

As for my other uncles, I found a little bald patch in the research for two of them. Then I remembered talk of Irish in the family. A bit of probing and I discovered they’d been born in Ireland, for I found them as infants on the Irish Census. And that was probably when grandfather used his coachman skills.

I’ve done my share of menial jobs like being a cleaning lady, a waitress, a shop assistant, wife, and mother to four – and at one time I followed a family trait of chauffeuring people around by being a taxi driver.

Now I’m an author . . . a saga writer, and that’s what I’d rather be remembered for – my creative input rather than my practical skills.

Snooping into the lives of the ancestors has given me lots of ideas for novels. I wonder . . . will a fall of the genetic dice produce a set of DNA similar enough to mine to create another author? Then again, there might already be one out there that I haven’t found. I guess I’ll just remain the odd one out on the family tree until I discover different.

Janet Woods

Thursday, 17 February 2011

Writing what you know

Writers are told to write about what they know. Good advice, although it doesn't take long to realise how little you do know when you start writing a book.

Luckpenny Land was the first saga I ever wrote. We were living on a small-holding at the time, out on Shap Fell in Cumbria, and as I trekked up the fellside in the freezing dark to check if our sheep were about to lamb, or to feed a pet lamb, I would 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, the winter snows would freeze the mains water supply in the field below the house every winter, as well as the battery of her car as it stands buried in snow in the yard. This was not a place for sun-loving wimps, which is what I’ve turned into now, of course.

So I thought why not write about a girl who wants to be a sheep farmer during World War II, only her Victorian father thinks it’s not women’s work. I could then use many of the incidents and anecdotes, the difficulties and drama of living this life, but write it as fiction. Of course, I realised that running a smallholding did not qualify me to write knowledgeably about running a large sheep farm, let alone during WWII, so I began by interviewing farmers.

Cumbrian farmers are a breed apart. Stoic, strong, taciturn, and distrustful of strangers, particularly those who have not lived in Cumbria for three generations. It’s not that they are unfriendly, only 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 I’d published 5 Mills & Boon historicals, but 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 in his business. 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 he did 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 on that without spoiling it.

Some of the farmers I spoke to were women. Although farming was a reserved occupation during the war, some men opted to join up and leave their wives to run the farm. I learned how to kill and scald a pig, how to wring a chicken’s neck and pluck it. (I kept hens myself but they all lived to a ripe old age) And all the various wangles they got up to during the war, like 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.

I loved writing this series of books, now available in ebook form on Amazon, Apple etc. Luckpenny Land is also newly out in Large Print as the original version was too long, being nearly 200,000 words. I’ve now cut it in half. The second part is called Storm Clouds Over Broombank, also available as an ebook, and coming soon in Large Print. I’ll tell you about the last two books in the series another time.

You'll see that the covers are different, the one above is the Large Print, availabe in your local library, the one below is the ebook.



Life is hard for Meg Turner. She lives on a lonely farm in the bleak but beautiful mountains of the English Lake District with a bully of a father and a brother who resents her. They want to keep her stuck at home, but Meg wants more than the kitchen sink. For love and comfort she turns to her best friend Kath, and to Lanky Lawson, who’s more of a father figure than her own father will ever be. But it’s Lanky’s son, Jack, with his dark good looks, she loves and hopes to marry one day. Loyalties are threatened as World War Two approaches and Meg gradually realises that the only thing she can really count on is her passion for the haunting land she loves. Until one day a stranger arrives in the dale and her world changes for ever.





You can check out my website for an extract www.fredalightfoot.co.uk

Wednesday, 16 February 2011

Heart of The Home

HEART OF THE HOME is the third book in my Home series, following on from Dreams of Home and A Home of Our Own.

Dean Scott and Avril Gray are the best of friends but their paths seem set to part when Avril goes to university. She has a promising career ahead but fate intervenes. She promises to care for her two young brothers although she believes no young man will want to share such a responsibility.
Dean is struggling to forge his own path as a dairy farmer and feels he is not good enough for an educated girl like Avril.
His mother is determined to keep them apart. When she discovers Avril is illegitimate and does not know who her father is the knowledge provides ammunition. She has a vicious tongue and confronts Avril in public, almost destroying her fragile confidence so that she thinks she ought to stay away from Dean.

Subject of girls' night out: Do you write SECRETS in your diary?

Whilst enjoying a night out,crammed with comfort foods and hot gossip, I was asked if I had a good tip for writing enthusiasts. Apart from my usual “a tube of glue to spread on your pants before sitting down at the computer” ha, ha, I admitted that I would never go anywhere without a notebook. If you are thinking about writing a novel/story/bestseller I’d recommend a glance through your notebook or diary right now. Ideas should leap off the page, especially if you keep that diary locked! And re-read those crumpled notes under your pillow and in the scrapbook beside your bed. What has happened to raise your eyebrows? What secret confidence have you shared? What drama stretched you to breaking point? Who or what gave you the greatest joy/sadness/excitement/thrill? It’s the emotion you felt at this time that you can transplant into a fictional character. Mary Shelley did it so well when she wrote Frankenstein. Were the monster’s emotions also hers? Was she as lonely and desperate, as fearful and vulnerable as her creation? Mary adored her husband. But obsession was his undoing. Was it also Mary’s? We may never know the true story. The strong emotions on every mysterious and enthralling page are so vivid and honest that they give us an insight into Mary herself. And so it is for a writer. It’s the emotion that leads the way in – and creates the foundation for your bestseller.

Tuesday, 15 February 2011

Shortlist for Pure Passion Awards UK

Katie Fforde, chair of the Romantic Novelists’ Association is delighted to announce the shortlist for the Pure Passion Awards 2011.


The RNA Pure Passion Awards celebrate the very best in romantic fiction. Over 200 titles were submitted for this year’s four categories, from the long-standing and hotly-contested Romantic Novel of the Year, to more recent additions which recognise the breadth of romantic fiction – the Historical Novel Prize, Romantic Comedy Award, and Love Story of the Year.

‘This year's short list represents the whole gamut of romantic fiction,’ said Katie Fforde, RNA Chair. ‘We have royalty, love letters, history and humour, from both newcomers and established authors. A truly impressive list.’
The shortlists
Over 200 books were submitted for the greatly-prized Romantic Novel of the Year. The shortlist of six titles have been selected by a panel of 85 readers from the general public. The winner will be selected by three independent judges – Amanda Craig, author and book reviewer, Foyle’s War actor and contributor to the blog Vulpes Libris, Jay Benedict, and fiction buyer for Waterstone’s, Janine Cook. The shortlist, in alphabetical order by author name, is:
To Defy a King Elizabeth Chadwick Sphere
The Golden Prince Rebecca Dean HarperCollins
Kissing Mr Wrong Sarah Duncan Headline Review
The Jewel of St. Petersburg Kate Furnivall Sphere
Amazir Tom Gamble Beautiful Books
The Last Letter From Your Lover JoJo Moyes Hodder & Stoughton

The Romantic Comedy Prize is organised and administered in the same way as the Romantic Novel of the Year. To reach the shortlist, the books must be laugh-out-loud funny. The winner is chosen by a panel of judges - Jane Wenham-Jones, author and columnist in magazine Booktime, Glenda Wood, Head of Libraries, Culture and Learning for Hertfordshire County Council, and Sara Craven, author of over 80 books for Mills & Boon. The shortlist is:
The Way to a Woman’s Heart Christina Jones Piatkus
I Heart Paris Lindsey Kelk HarperCollins
Mini Shopaholic Sophie Kinsella Bantam Press
Take a Chance on Me Jill Mansell Headline Review
Katy Carter Wants A Hero Ruth Saberton Orion
A Date in your Diary Jules Stanbridge Little Black Dress

Fiction submitted which is set pre-1960 is eligible for the Historical Novel Prize. As with Romantic Novel of the Year and Romantic Comedy Prize, a shortlist of six is selected by a panel of readers, and the winner selected by three judges – Richard Lee, founder of the Historical Novel Association, Elizabeth Hawksley, author and creative writing teacher, and Diane Pearson, president of the RNA since 1987.
The shortlist is:
To Defy a King Elizabeth Chadwick Sphere
Trade Winds Christina Courtenay Choc Lit
The Golden Prince Rebecca Dean HarperCollins
The Wayward Governess Joanna Fulford Mills & Boon Historical
The Jewel of St. Petersburg Kate Furnivall Sphere
Heart of Stone Jane Jackson Severn House

The Love Story of the Year is for a shorter romance where there is a strong emphasis on the developing central relationship. A shortlist of six is again chosen by the reading public, with the winner selected by three judges.
The shortlist is:
The Piratical Miss Ravenhurst Louise Allen Mills & Boon Historical
Mother of the Bride Caroline Anderson Mills & Boon Romance
Bride in a Gilded Cage Abby Green Mills & Boon Modern
Moving On Valerie Holmes Linford Romance
Fortunate Wager Jan Jones Robert Hale
The Captain’s Mysterious Lady Mary Nichols Mills & Boon Historical

Two Lifetime Achievement Awards will be presented to two people who have made outstanding contributions to romantic fiction and the Romantic Novelists' Association.

The winners for each award will be named at the Pure Passion Awards 2011, Monday, 7th March 2011 at a champagne reception at One Whitehall Place, Westminster.

Wednesday, 19 January 2011

Slender Wartime Waistlines


World War ll may have been an age of austerity but with this came a natural way of being slim. It has been recorded that women were never so slender – or fit – as in the 4o's. The saying, “everything in moderation” was never so true as both food and liquids were rationed. Per week you were allotted 4oz of bacon, 8oz sugar, 2oz butter, one egg and 2oz of tea, to name but a few items affected. Chocolate, sweets and coffee, our comfort foods were practically non-existent. Oil and fats to fry in had to be squeezed from the little meat allowed, providing you stood long enough in a queue and had a ration book to show at the end of it. Living in towns and cities was very hard. Register at a local shop to buy your groceries and you might end up if you were lucky, with treasures like spam, potatoes, carrots and dried egg. In the country at least it was easier to grow your own and keep chickens. My Granddad tried growing his own veg in the back yard. But after the raids, what produce there was – should there be any left over from the unkind elements and poor quality soil - were covered in dust. Even the plane trees’ lives were numbered beneath the torrent of bombs. Other than the Mudchute, a waste area, there was no greenery, so no fruits or berries to gather. East Enders gave up trying to be versatile and settled for spam and the Woolton Pie, promoted by the government - a thin wafer of pastry laid over whatever vegetables were available. The pounds slipped from the waistline and filling men's jobs kept women active and focused. The austerity measures may have been unwanted and reviled, yet you only have to look at photos of women in the 40's to see how beautiful and confident they were – and SLIM!

Thursday, 6 January 2011



Benedict's Bride by Janet Woods (ebook)

Amber Rose Hartford’s grandfather made her dowry dependent on her marrying Viscount Costain. Though unaware of this condition, Benedict accepts it for more than one reason. He rescues Amber from her disreputable cousin Patrick, but before they can marry she is abducted. A large ransom is paid but Amber is not released. Benedict must rescue her again—and convince her of his honorable intentions.

Historical Romance by Janet Woods; originally published by Belgrave House

Sunday, 2 January 2011

New Year


I'm just taking this opportunity to wish everyone a happy, healthy and prosperous New Year. May our writing continue, with inspiration, perspiration and consternation, but always great satisfaction at the conclusion of our WIPS! Have a great 2011, guys! Love from Carol R X