crime – Page 22 – Jenny Kane & Jennifer Ash

Happy Birthday Romancing Robin Hood!

On August 25, 2015

In Blog, Contemporary fiction, Contemporary Romantic Fiction, crime, Fiction, Historical fiction

Believe it or not, Romancing Robin Hood, is a year old!

I had SO much fun writing this novel, which was largely based on my own obsession with Robin Hood and the work I did on my PhD – far too many years ago to mention!!

To celebrate Romancing Robin Hood’s birthday, I thought I’d share a little of the novel with you. Here’s the blurb to help set the scene.

Blurb

Dr Grace Harper has loved the stories of Robin Hood ever since she first saw them on TV as a girl. Now, with her fortieth birthday just around the corner, she’s a successful academic in Medieval History, with a tenured position at a top university.

But Grace is in a bit of a rut. She’s supposed to be writing a textbook on a real-life medieval gang of high-class criminals – the Folvilles – but she keeps being drawn into the world of the novel she’s secretly writing – a novel which entwines the Folvilles with her long-time love of Robin Hood – and a feisty young girl named Mathilda, who is the key to a medieval mystery…

Meanwhile, Grace’s best friend Daisy – who’s as keen on animals as Grace is on the Merry Men – is unexpectedly getting married, and a reluctant Grace is press-ganged into being her bridesmaid. As Grace sees Daisy’s new-found happiness, she starts to re-evaluate her own life. Is her devotion to a man who may or may not have lived hundreds of years ago really a substitute for a real-life hero of her own? It doesn’t get any easier when she meets Dr Robert Franks – a rival academic who Grace is determined to dislike but finds herself being increasingly drawn to…

***

Romancing Robin Hood is a contemporary romance is based on the life of Dr Grace Harper, a medieval history lecturer with a major Robin Hood obsession. So much so, that instead of writing a textbook on medieval life, Grace is secretly writing a novella about a fourteenth century girl called Mathilda, who gets mixed up with a real outlaw family of the day, the Folvilles. As you read Grace’s story, you can read the medieval mystery she is writing alongside!

The problem is, Grace is so embroiled in her work and passion for outlaws, that real life is passing her by.

With her wedding approaching fast, Grace’s best friend Daisy can’t help wishing a similar happiness to her own for her Robin Hood loving friend…

Extract

…Daisy hadn’t grown up picturing herself floating down the aisle in an over-sequinned ivory frock, nor as a doting parent, looking after triplets and walking a black Labrador. So when, on an out-of-hours trip to the local vet’s surgery she’d met Marcus and discovered that love at first sight wasn’t a myth, it had knocked her for six.

She’d been on a late-night emergency dash to the surgery with an owl a neighbour had found injured in the road. Its wing had required a splint, and it was too big a job for only one pair of hands. Daisy had been more than a bit surprised when the locum vet had stirred some long-suppressed feeling of interest in her, and even more amazed when that feeling had been reciprocated.

It was all luck, sheer luck. Daisy had always believed that anyone meeting anybody was down to two people meeting at exactly the right place, at exactly the right time, while both feeling precisely the right amount of chemistry. The fact that any couples existed at all seemed to Daisy to be one of the greatest miracles of humanity.

She pictured Grace, tucked away in her mad little office only living in the twenty-first century on a part-time basis. Daisy had long since got used to the fact that her closest friend’s mind was more often than not placed firmly in the 1300s. Daisy wished Grace would finish her book. It had become such a part of her. Such an exclusive aim that nothing else seemed to matter very much. Even the job she used to love seemed to be a burden to her now, and Daisy sensed that Grace was beginning to resent the hours it took her away from her life’s work. Maybe if she could get her book over with – get it out of her system – then Grace would stop living in the wrong timeframe.

Daisy knew Grace appreciated that she never advised her to find a bloke, settle down, and live ‘happily ever after,’ and she was equally grateful Grace had never once suggested anything similar to her. Now she had Marcus, however, Daisy had begun to want the same contentment for her friend, and had to bite her tongue whenever they spoke on the phone; something that happened less and less these days.

Grace’s emails were getting shorter too. The long paragraphs detailing the woes of teaching students with an ever-decreasing intelligence had blunted down to, ‘You ok? I’m good. Writing sparse. See you soon. Bye G x’

The book. That in itself was a problem. Grace’s publishers and colleagues, Daisy knew, were expecting an academic tome. A textbook for future medievalists to ponder over in the university libraries of the world. And, in time, that was exactly what they were going to get, but not yet, for Grace had confided to Daisy that this wasn’t the only thing she was working on, and her textbook was coming a poor third place to work and the other book she couldn’t seem to stop herself from writing.

‘Why,’ Grace had forcefully expounded on their last meeting, ‘should I slog my guts out writing a book only a handful of bored students and obsessive freaks like myself will ever pick up, let alone read?’

As a result, Grace was writing a novel, ‘A semi-factual novel,’ she’d said, ‘a story which will tell any student what they need to know about the Folville family and their criminal activities – which bear a tremendous resemblance to the stories of a certain famous literary outlaw! – and hopefully promote interest in the subject for those who aren’t that into history without boring them to death.’

It sounded like a good idea to Daisy, but she also knew, as Grace did, that it was precisely the sort of book academics frowned upon, and she was worried about Grace’s determination to finish it. Daisy thought it would be more sensible to concentrate on one manuscript at a time, and get the dry epic that everyone was expecting out of the way first. Perhaps it would have been completed by now if Grace could focus on one project at a time, rather than it currently being a year in the preparation without a final result in sight. Daisy suspected Grace’s boss had no idea what she was really up to. After all, she was using the same lifetime of research for both manuscripts. She also had an underlying suspicion that subconsciously Grace didn’t want to finish either the textbook or the novel; that her friend was afraid to finish them. After all, what would she fill her hours with once they were done?

Daisy’s mobile began to play a tinny version of Nellie the Elephant. She hastily plopped a small black guinea pig, which she’d temporarily called Charcoal, into a run with his numerous friends, and fished her phone from her dungarees pocket.

‘Hi, Marcus.’

‘Hi honey, you OK?’

‘Just delivering the tribe to their outside quarters, then I’m off to face the horror that is dress shopping.’

Her future husband laughed, ‘You’ll be fine. You’re just a bit rusty, that’s all.’

‘Rusty! I haven’t owned a dress since I went to parties as a small child. Thirty-odd years ago!’

‘I don’t understand why you don’t go with Grace at the weekend. It would be easier together wouldn’t it?’

Daisy sighed, ‘I’d love to go with her, but I’ll never get her away from her work more than once this month, and I’ve yet to arrange a date for her to buy a bridesmaid outfit.’

‘Well, good luck, babe. I’m off to rob some bulls of their manhood.’

Daisy giggled, ‘Have fun. Oh, why did you call by the way?’

‘Just wanted to hear your voice, nothing else.’

‘Oh cute – ta.’

‘Idiot! Enjoy shopping.’

As she clicked her battered blue mobile shut and slid it back into her working clothes, Daisy thought of Grace again. Perhaps she should accidentally invite loads of single men to the wedding to tempt her friend with. The trouble was, unless they wore Lincoln Green, and carried a bow and quiver of arrows, Daisy very much doubted whether Grace would even notice they were there…

***

If that extract has whetted your appetite for more, Romancing Robin Hood is available in paperback, and e-formats from all good retailers- including-

Amazon UK- http://www.amazon.co.uk/Romancing-Robin-Hood-Jenny-Kane-ebook/dp/B00M4838S2/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1407428558&sr=8-1&keywords=romancing+robin+hood

Amazon.com- http://www.amazon.co.uk/Romancing-Robin-Hood-Jenny-Kane-ebook/dp/B00M4838S2/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1407428558&sr=8-1&keywords=romancing+robin+hood

Nook – http://www.nook.com/gb/ebooks/romancing-robin-hood-by-jenny-kane/9781783754267

Kobo- https://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/romancing-robin-hood

I’m off to blow out Romancing Robin Hood’s birthday candles now!!

Happy reading

Jenny xx

Café time all the time…

By Jenny Kane

On August 16, 2015

In Blog, Books For Children, Contemporary fiction, Contemporary Romantic Fiction, crime, Fiction

Anyone who reads this blog knows that I have a serious coffee shop habit! I am addicted- not just to the coffee itself- but to the cafes themselves. I just love them- all of them. From the mega chains, to the little independent cafes, the truckers rest stops, and the coffee stops tucked away in department stores- I adore every one of them.

I love to watch the people around me, to smile at strangers to see how they respond, to wrap my hands around a coffee mug and inhale the aroma of the drink within. For me, there is something very soothing about these places. Whether they are jammed packed and noisy, or as quiet as the proverbial grave, with myself being the only one in residence,. I simply feel at home in coffee shops. It is for this reason that, when I was offered a job as coffee shop blogger for Phoenix Somerset, I snapped the opportunity right on up! I mean, why wouldn’t I!

I call my coffee blog Have Americano and Pen…Will Travel Each week I visit a new coffee shop somewhere in Somerset, and work from there for a while- it’s a fantastic job !

It won’t surprise you to learn then, that every novel I have ever written has taken shape in various different coffee shops.

From my earliest days writing children’s stories (I used to go into schools and jump around, making up tales about cows, hats, and Doctor Who- yes Doctor Who), to my erotica, my poetry (my writing life began as a poet), and on to my romances, each has begun life with a cup of café poured black coffee to hand.

It seemed totally natural to me therefore, that when I came to create my first non-erotic novel, to make coffee shops the main places of meeting and discussion for the main characters.

The coffee shop that features most within Another Cup of Coffee is Pickwicks. Tucked away on a side street in Richmond, London, Pickwicks is run by the ever bubbly Peggy, and her husband Scott. It is here that, newly arrived in London from Scotland, Amy is to find a refuge from her troubles, a temporary job, a possible future, and a potential friend in Kit- a woman who spends her days sat in the corner of Pickwicks writing erotic stories for an American Internet company…

Each and every day I begin by visiting a café, pen and notebook to hand. I’ll be honest, I get really grumpy if my day doesn’t begin with a good black Americano, and a good dose of inspirational people watching!

Who says coffee shops are just for drinking coffee???

Happy reading,

Jenny xx

Guest Post from Nell Peters: Write Therapy

By Jenny Kane

On July 6, 2015

In Blog, Contemporary fiction, crime, Fiction

I’m delighted to welcome Nell Peters back to my site today! This is a fabulously poetic blog!!

Over to you Nell…

Hello again – and huge thanks to Jenny Kane for risking her blog’s fine reputation once more.

Since I was last here, I’m thrilled to have signed another contract with Accent Press, for Hostile Witness, a psychological crime/thriller. It will probably appear in 2016, after I’ve pared down the word count by approx 6,000 words – don’t you just hate it when that happens? Hostile is my Book That Will Not Die, having been around for quite a while – initially written in the first person, now converted to third. It sold reasonably well on sites such as Lulu.com and later Amazon KDP and collected some spanking reviews – but no publisher showed more than a sniff of interest, until lovely Greg Rees cast his eagle eye over it. Hey presto!

Here’s the blurb:

When her husband leaves her and their sons to shack up with a mere child, Callie Ashton thinks she’s hit rock bottom. She’s wrong. Already unemployed – possibly unemployable – and struggling to hold everything together, her life goes into freefall when she finds a neighbour dead and the murderer becomes intent on killing her too, wrongly assuming she can identify him.

Nothing makes sense – the killer’s motive is buried deep in the past and the police seem incapable of finding it. Despite her new man, David, being in charge of the investigation, Callie is in great danger – and the sinister Balaclava Man isn’t too worried whom he kills or maims by mistake, in his quest to eliminate her. No one is safe and Balaclava Man seems to know her every movement. Faced with a mounting body count and what she perceives as police ineptitude, Callie feels she has no choice but to take matters into her own hands.

However, she discovers that like a scorpion, Balaclava Man has a sting in his tail and many a twist in his plot – and she has no idea just how very close to home the real danger lurks.

Even when her nemesis is safely behind bars and she dares to resume normal life, a shocking revelation makes her realise she and her family may never be safe.

How can you resist? ☺

Someone asked me recently how I came to write crime – good question, and it was a very convoluted pathway. Probably like most authors, I’ve always had some writing project or other on the go – from dreadful children’s stories to creative missives to the milkman. When the family suffered a bereavement, I suddenly started to write poetry even though I’d never been a particular fan – not serious stuff, as you might reasonably imagine, but mostly humorous.

More or less for my own amusement, I was writing a how-to book on composing basic poetry, when I read of research undertaken at Bristol Royal Infirmary, which concluded that creative writing – poetry in particular – had helped patients suffering from depression, anxiety, bereavement and stress, to the extent that over half were eventually able to stop taking their medication. I could recognise that improvement in myself, even though I’d never been under the chemical cosh. Much like you might write a letter or email to someone you’re really pissed off with – and probably never send it, because you feel a whole lot better after venting your feelings on paper – writing poetry can be a means of expressing destructive, negative emotions so that they become impotent. You have written them down, so you are in control.

As Graham Greene said; ‘Writing is a form of therapy; sometimes I wonder how all those who do not write, compose or paint can manage to escape the madness, melancholia, the panic and fear which is inherent in a human situation.’

I rehashed my masterpiece to include the research findings and sent it off to the Submissions Editor at Hodder Stoughton. Though she said I’d ‘taken her breath away’, (I think she meant it as a compliment) ultimately it wasn’t for them, but she asked me to write a novel and let her see it. I decided on crime, because that is mostly what I read for pleasure – too bad the editor was made redundant before I had got as far as typing The End, but it didn’t stop me plugging away.

I recently revised Write Therapy, incorporating snippets of what I learned when I returned to uni to read Psychology and Sociology. It now reclines on Amazon KDP – if you mention poetry to publishers in general, they tend to suck air in through their teeth and shake their heads meaningfully, in much the same way that car mechanics do when they sense a hopeless auto-dunce in their midst, just waiting to be led to the slaughter.

One of the exercises in Write Therapy is to write as someone else. I have had a character named Bazil Bratt knocking around in my head for years – he uses his way with words as a form of therapeutic escapism from a pretty miserable existence, although at eight or nine he’s probably far too young to realise that. He writes about things he has seen or done at school or home and drifts off into his own little world, where nothing can touch him. Writing is his creative armour, his defence mechanism.

Grub’s Up

School dinners are disgusting

All lumpy, green and gooey

I don’t know what we had today

But it was very chewy

The standard of the cooking

Gets worser everyday

The bins are fit to burst by one

As we throw the muck away

The local pigs are laughing

They get such a lot to eat

Well, they’re welcome to my dinner

‘Cos it smells like cheesy feet

Birthday Boy

It was my birthday yesterday

and the coolest gift has come my way

a whoopee cushion! It does loud farts

and I’ve got placing it down to an art

When Granny came to birthday tea

I sat her down right next to me

The foulest noise then filled the air

(it was under the padding, on her chair)

Poor Granny bowed her head in shame

I was delighted with this game!

But as Gran turned the brightest red

My rotten Mum sent me to bed

Season of Goodwill

The Nativity Play didn’t go too well

in fact, it was a big disaster

The scenery fell right off the stage

and landed on the Headmaster

We could have coped and covered that up

if it hadn’t been for the lighting

a spotlight blew and frightened the Mayor

then he and Joseph started fighting

Peace and Goodwill to All Men – maybe

but not in our school hall

The audience rose and rolled up their sleeves

and the play ended up in a brawl

Beanz Meanz Farts

Monday, we had beans for tea

(we had no bread for toast)

But it didn’t matter, we were quite content

seeing who could fart the most

First Bern let rip – a noxious pong

that scored eight out of ten

but the big surprise was the amazing noise

that came from Little Ben

Easter Bun

That Easter Bunny should get the sack

He forgot our eggs, but didn’t come back

To apologise and give us the chocs

May myxomatosis rot his socks

It’s not as though he’s overworked

Just once a year the little jerk

Has to hop around delivering the loot

If he can’t manage that, then give him the boot

Dad’s Stir

Our Dad is doing porridge

No, not the cereal kind

He’s gone to jail for many years

And left Mum in a bind

But she is very lucky

She has we four young men

If we could just dig up Dad’s loot

We’d not need him again

We’d fly off to the sunshine

For unlimited ice cream

But ‘til Dad coughs and draws a map

We sit and freeze and dream

Ralph

Our dog called Ralph is brainy

He’s qualified in Woof

He doesn’t have a girlfriend, though

I think Ralph is a poof

Nitty Nora

The Nit Nurse came to school today

She looked through all our hair

But I’ve no head lice, so she says

Well! I don’t think that’s fair

I could train them to do circus tricks:

Acrobatics and trapeze

Wait! Another plan has come to me

I could always breed cat fleas

And finally, returning to every small boy’s favourite subject: farts;

The Bum’s Rush

The laughs and guffaws had turned to screams

When my brother was playing with chums

I rushed to his room to see why the fuss

And saw flames attacking his bum

I scooped up the duvet, to smother the fire

(He was lucky I got there so fast)

No real harm done, though his pants were destroyed

And he had blisters all over his arse

The aim of their game was to fart and ignite

But my brother’s a dense little brat

He didn’t remove his underwear

And his friends set fire to that

I don’t think Carol Ann Duffy is losing any sleep …

Perhaps I should go, before the men in white coats catch up with me.

Write Therapy – also written under my pen name Nell Peters, can be found at:

viewBook.at/WriteTherapy

My currently crime novel, By Any Other Name, published by Accent Press, can be found at: viewBook.at/By_Any_Other_Name_by_Nell_Peters

Thank you again, Jenny!

***

Wonderful blog! Love the poems!

Happy reading,

Jenny xx

Tiverton Literary Festival: With thanks to…

By Jenny Kane

On June 11, 2015

In Blog, Books For Children, Contemporary fiction, Contemporary Romantic Fiction, crime, Fiction, Historical fiction

With the first Tiverton Literary Festival over, the TivLitFest team would like to thank everyone who kindly gave up their time to help us run each event, all the authors who gave up their time to come along, and all the publishers and agents who let those authors go AWOL from their computer keyboards for a while.

Special thanks must go to the following for their donations of hosting space, competition prizes, refreshments, ticket selling, sponsorship, or free time.

Tiverton Portas Company

Sue Searle at The Oak Room

Lionel at Brendon Books

Reapers Wholefood Store, Tiverton

Richard’s Aquatics

Jurassic Coast Costa

Majestic Wine, Tiverton

Accent Press

Tiverton Library

Tiverton Museum and Tourist Information Centre

Tiverton Town Hall

Blundell’s School

Tiverton High School

Tiverton Castle

Courtney’s Bar, Tiverton

The Rose and Crown, Caverleigh

Hepcomotion,

WHSmith, Tiverton

Tiverton Town Council

Mayor of Tiverton

Mid Devon District Council

PosiTIV Radio

Petroc Café

CreaTIV Hub

BBC Radio Devon

Cult Pens

St Peter’s Church, Tiverton

St George’s Church, Tiverton

Tom Watson Music

There are so many people to thank that it would be impossible to mention everyone. We appreciate each and every person who made the festival such a success, no matter what they did to help.

If you would like to be involved in The Second Tiverton Literary Festival next year (8th-13th June 2016), as an author, sponsor, or a volunteer, please email info@tivlitfest.co.uk

Many thanks,

Jenny, Kerstin, and Sue.

xx

Tiverton Literary Festival: The Highlights- Part 2

By Jenny Kane

On June 9, 2015

In Blog, Books For Children, Contemporary fiction, Contemporary Romantic Fiction, crime, Fiction

It’s now two days since the very first Tiverton Literary Festival ended, and I’m still trying to comprehend just how much happened in just 5 days!

Yesterday I posted the first batch of photographs from the festival, today I thought I’d share a few more. See yesterdays post here.

The festival wasn’t just about the listening to famous authors talk on panels, but also about getting as many children enjoying words as possible. There were a great number of events which were not open to the public, but involved our local schools. The fantastic Charlie Carroll was joined at Blundell’s School, by primary school pupils from Heathcoat, St Johns and others, to take a Lend me Your Literacy workshop.

Writer and illustrator team, Chloe Uden and Matt Harvey caused happy havoc with their book, Beastie and the Boys, with the aid of a huge group of primary school children at St George’s church. While at Tiverton High School, authors Alexandra Stoppford, Emily Barr, and international journalist, Alexander Sehmer all ran interactive workshops.

For a while we all had the luxury of a bookshop in the town’s CreaTIV Hub on Fore Street, where books by all the authors involved were available for sale, thanks to Brendon Books in Taunton.

Books at the CreaTIV Hub

There were two great talks during the festival, one by city boy turned Exmoor smallholder, Simon Dawson, who was telling us all how to get mucky in middle age! I’ll never forget how his wife hatches chicks….

Simon Dawson sees his new book for the first time!

We were also privileged enough to be joined by the countries most prolific crime series writer- the brilliant and hilarious Michael Jecks, who entertained us in The Oak Room for two delightful hours.

Michael Jecks talks about the quirky side of writing at The Oak Room

I could chatter away about the festival for hours- but I have a book to write! So, I’ll leave you now with a few more photographs!

Once again, many thanks to everyone involved in the festival- role on next year, and Tiv Lit Fest 2!!!

Buying books after the Crime Panel

Michael Jecks signs books

Prize giving for excellent story writing

Jo Mortimer reads on the Story Trail

Amy Sparkes reads on the story trail

Creative Writing with Chris Ewan and Cal Moriarty

Happy reading,

Jenny x

Tiverton Literary Festival: The Highlights- Part 1

By Jenny Kane

On June 8, 2015

In Blog, Books For Children, Contemporary fiction, Contemporary Romantic Fiction, crime, Fiction, Historical fiction, News

On the 3rd June, myself and fellow organisers Sue Griggs and Kerstin Muggeridge, launched the very first Tiverton Literary Festival!

Five days of author visits, panels, talks, school workshops, story telling, fancy dress, and book loving!

There have been times between September 2014 (when we began to work on the festival), and the end of the last panel (yesterday at 3.30pm), when we all thought we were insane! So much could go wrong! We had worked so hard, so many well known and respected authors had travelled miles and miles to be with us- what if not one showed up?

The beautiful Oak Room in Tiverton, had rushed it’s opening so it could become our main venue (And an amazing venue it is too!!) Local businesses, Reapers, the library, Tiverton Museum, and Majestic Wines, had all put themselves out to sell tickets for us. The locally owned Costa Coffee had arranged to open especially for an evening quiz, and Lionel- the owner of Brendon Books in Taunton- was due to travel to us everyday with a stock of books from all the featured authors- so- WHAT IF NO ONE TURNED UP??????

It is with no little relief that I am pleased to report that, not only did we get a great local response- we had a full house on many occasions!

There are so many things to report- but for now I shall leave you with a few photographs, and a HUGE THANK YOU to all those who came along, be you visitor or author. You all made the event a success- for which we thank you heartily. Extra special thanks to Lucy Hay, for setting up all our social media and keeping it going, and to Ben Overd, for keeping our lovely website going!! www.tivlitfest.co.uk

Julie Cohen, Rachel Brimble, Alison Rose and Jenny Kane talk romantic fiction

Packed house from the Crime Panel

Simon Hall and Nicola Upson chat to Paul Mortimer

Crime writer Clare Donoghue

Teresa Drsicoll, veronica Henry, Vanessa LaFaye and Karen Maitland chat to Bill Buckley

Keeping the coffee coming at The Oak Room

A happy fancy dress prize winner!!

SO much has happened over the last week- and I honestly haven’t taken it all in yet!! I will share more moments with you soon!

Happy reading everyone,

Jenny xx

Tiverton Literary Festival: Cupcakes, Crime, Poetry, & Romance at The Oak Room

By Jenny Kane

On May 16, 2015

In Blog, Contemporary fiction, Contemporary Romantic Fiction, crime, Fiction

Today I had the great pleasure of attending the official opening of a brand new venue in Tiverton, Devon- The Oak Room – which will be the prime location for the Tiverton Literary Festival. (3rd -7th June)

A converted church, there has been a church on the site of The Oak Room since 166o. The current building, made of imposing limestone, was built in 1831. It was used as a United Reformed Church until 2012, when the church was put up for sale. In 2014 Sue Searle, bought the church with a view to converting it into a café, art gallery and events venue- and she has done an amazing job!!

Sue Searle on the Oak Room stage

Why not come along on 3rd June and join the Cupcakes and Romance panel? With a cupcake to hand, come and listen to bestselling authors Julie Cohen (Where Love Lies), Alison Rose, (Off the Record), and Rachel Brimble (What a Woman Desires), chat to me about their work, their writing, and their inspiration. You’ll have the opportunity to ask questions of your own, and find out just what makes their imaginations spark a heart warming tale.

Julie Cohen

Or perhaps you fancy sipping a latte while listening to some of the countries best crime writers?

Simon Hall

Poet and journalist Paul Mortimer, will be hosting an hour of murder, suspense and dodgy dealings, as bestselling crime writers, Simon Hall (The TV Detective Novels), Nicola Upson (The Josephine Tey novels) and Clare Donoghue (The Watcher), talk about committing crimes via the pen and computer keyboard. There will be a chance to ask your own questions, enjoy refreshments, and purchase some books.

Coffee at The Oak Room

Paul Mortimer will also be at the Oak Room for an evening of outstanding and award winning poetry from the Poetry Café and Junction 25 team.

On Thursday 4th June join award winning and, bestselling author, Michael Jecks, for a light hearted look at the life of a writer. Reflecting on a career spent with one foot in the Fourteenth Century fighting the Hundred Year’s War (often with murderous intent never far behind), and the other foot in Devon, scribbling words at high speed, Michael raises a glass to a life only half lived in reality. With a talk entitled ’20 Writing Questions’ I can guarantee an evening of smiles!!

Michael Jecks

There are many many more literary events being held at The Oak Room, and throughout Tiverton town as a whole, between 3rd and 7th June- just checkout the web site for details www.tivlitfest.co.uk

Tickets are available from www.tivlitfest.co.uk , or from Tiverton Library, Reapers Wholefoods on Bampton Street, and Majestic Wines, Tiverton.

Hope to see you there!!

Jenny xx

Coming Soon: The Tiverton Literary Festival

By Jenny Kane

On April 20, 2015

In Blog, Books For Children, Contemporary Romantic Fiction, crime, Historical fiction, News

Between the 3rd and 7th of June this year, Tiverton in Devon, will be hosting its very first literary festival!

I am delighted to be one of the organisers, along with fellow author Kerstin Muggeridge, and the town mayor, Susie Griggs.

When we took this venture on, we weren’t at all sure if any one would want to take part- how wrong we were! We have been so overwhelmed with authors wanting to take part that the festival has already expanded from being a two day affair to a five day celebration of books, reading, writing and the imagination.

Over the next few weeks I’ll be sharing more details about the festival, as we confirm more and more guests. But I can already announce a fantastic romance panel with the brilliant Julie Cohen, Rachel Brimble and Alison Rose, hosted by yours truly at the gorgeous Oak Room in Tiverton (3rd June, 7pm)

Julie Cohen

There will be an exclusive talk by the wonderful medieval murder mystery writer, Michael Jecks, about Devon in the Hundred Years War, at The Oak Room in Tiverton (4th June 7pm)

Michael Jecks

Saturday 6th June sees a jam packed day full of children’s stories, fancy dress competitions, a best selling author packed crime panel (with Simon Hall, Nicola Upson, Cal Moriarty and Clare Donaghue),- and then there is a family literary quiz at the Costa café on Bampton Street.

Simon Hall

There will be a number of workshops for writing fiction, screen writing, self publishing and children’s story writing, as well as much much more!

Keep an eye on the web site for all the latest events and the forthcoming ticket sales!!

Come back soon for more news!

Happy reading,

Jenny xxx

Medieval Crime within a Contemporary Romance: Romancing Robin Hood

By Jenny Kane

On April 16, 2015

In Blog, Contemporary Romantic Fiction, crime, Historical fiction

Romancing Robin Hood is a contemporary romance all about history lecturer Dr Grace Harper, who is nuts about Robin Hood and the historical outlaws that may have inspired him. So not only does Romancing Robin Hood tell the story of Grace’s fight to find time for romance in her busy work filled life, it also contains a secondary story about the fourteenth century criminal gang Grace is researching- the Folvilles. This family, based in Ashby-Folville in Leicestershire, were a group I researched in-depth as a student many moons ago.

In the novella she is writing, Grace’s fourteenth century protagonist Mathilda is getting to know the Folville family rather better than she would have liked. As well as living with them, she suddenly finds herself under a very frightening type of suspicion.

I must confess I’m rather enjoyed weaving this sub plot around the main romance of the modern part of Romancing Robin Hood.

In my last blog I shared a little of the modern side of my time slip novel, Romancing Robin Hood. Today I thought I’d share a little of the medieval side of the tale.

***

Mathilda thought she was used to darkness, but the dim candlelight of the comfortable small room she shared at home with her brothers was nothing like this. The sheer density of this darkness seemed to envelop her, physically gliding over Mathilda’s clammy goose-pimpled skin. This was an extreme blackness that coated her, making her breathless, as if it was stealthfully compressing her lungs and squeezing the life from her.

Unable to see the floor, Mathilda presumed, as she pressed her naked foot against it and damp oozed between her toes, that the suspiciously soft surface she was sat on was moss, which in a room neglected for years had been allowed it to form a cushion on the stone floor. It was a theory backed up by the smell of mould and general filthiness which hung in the air.

Trying not to think about how long she was going to be left in this windowless cell, Mathilda stretched out her arms and bravely felt for the extent of the walls, hoping she wasn’t about to touch something other than cold stone. The child’s voice that lingered at the back of her mind, even though she was a woman of nineteen, was telling her – screaming at her – that there might be bodies in here, still clapped in irons, abandoned and rotting. Mathilda battled the voice down; knowing it that would do her no good at all. Her father had always congratulated Mathilda on her level headedness, and now it was being put to the test. She was determined not to let him down now.

Placing the very tips of her fingers against the wall behind her, she felt her way around. It was wet. Trickles of water had found a way in from somewhere, giving the walls the same slimy covering as the floor. Mathilda traced the outline of the rough stone wall, keeping her feet exactly where they were. In seconds her fingers came to a corner, and twisting at the waist, she managed to plot her prison from one side of the heavy wooden door to the other, without doing more than extending the span of her arms.

Mathilda decided the room could be no more than five feet square, although it must be about six foot tall. Her own five-foot frame had stumbled down a step when she’d been pushed into the cell, and her head was at least a foot clear of the ceiling. The bleak eerie silence was eating away at her determination to be brave, and the cold brought her suppressed fear to the fore. Suddenly the shivering Mathilda had stoically ignored overtook her, and there was nothing she could do but let it invade her small slim body.

Wrapping her thin arms around her chest, she pulled up her hood, hugged her grey woollen surcoat tighter about her shoulders, and sent an unspoken prayer of thanks up to Our Lady for the fact that her legs were covered.

She’d been helping her two brothers, Matthew and Oswin, to catch fish in the deeper water beyond the second of Twyford’s fords when the men had come. Mathilda had been wearing an old pair of Matthew’s hose, although no stockings or shoes. She thought of her warm footwear, discarded earlier with such merry abandon. A forgotten, neglected pile on the river bank; thrown haphazardly beneath a tree in her eagerness to get them off and join the boys in their work. It was one of the only tasks their father gave them that could have been considered fun.

Mathilda closed her eyes, angry as the tears she’d forbidden herself to shed defied her stubborn will and came anyway. With them came weariness. It consumed her, forcing her to sink onto the rotten floor. Water dripped into her long, lank red hair. The tussle of capture had loosened its neatly woven plait, and now it hung awkwardly, half in and half out of its bindings, like a badly strapped sheaf of strawberry corn.

She tried not to start blaming her father, but it was difficult not to. Why hadn’t he told her he’d borrowed money from the Folvilles? It was an insane thing to do. Only the most desperate … Mathilda stopped her thoughts in their tracks. They were disloyal and pointless…

…Does Mathilda seem miserable and scared enough? Grace wasn’t sure she’d laid the horror of the situation on thick enough. On the other hand, she didn’t want to drown her potential readers in suffering-related adjectives.

No, on reflection it was fine; certainly good enough to leave and come back to on the next read through. She glanced at the clock at the corner of the computer screen. How the hell had it got to eight thirty already? Grace’s stomach rumbled, making her think of poor Mathilda in her solitary prison.

Switching off her computer, Grace crammed all her notes into her bag so she could read over them at home, and headed out of her office. Walking down the Queen’s Road, which led from the university to her small home in Leicester’s Clarendon Park region, Grace decided it was way too hot, even at this time of the evening, to stand in the kitchen and attempt, and probably fail, to cook something edible, so she’d grab a takeaway.

Grateful it wasn’t term time, so she didn’t have to endure the banter of the students who were also waiting for associated plastic boxes of Chinese food, Grace speedily walked home, and without bothering to transfer her chicken chow mein to another dish, grabbed a fork, kicked off her shoes, and settled herself down with her manuscript…

***

Romancing Robin Hood – Blurb.

Dr Grace Harper has loved the stories of Robin Hood ever since she first saw them on TV as a girl. Now, with her fortieth birthday just around the corner, she’s a successful academic in Medieval History, with a tenured position at a top university.

But Grace is in a bit of a rut. She’s supposed to be writing a textbook on a real-life medieval gang of high-class criminals – the Folvilles – but she keeps being drawn into the world of the novel she’s secretly writing – a novel which entwines the Folvilles with her long-time love of Robin Hood – and a feisty young girl named Mathilda, who is the key to a medieval mystery…

Meanwhile, Grace’s best friend Daisy – who’s as keen on animals as Grace is on the Merry Men – is unexpectedly getting married, and a reluctant Grace is press-ganged into being her bridesmaid. As Grace sees Daisy’s new-found happiness, she starts to re-evaluate her own life. Is her devotion to a man who may or may not have lived hundreds of years ago really a substitute for a real-life hero of her own? It doesn’t get any easier when she meets Dr Robert Franks – a rival academic who Grace is determined to dislike but finds herself being increasingly drawn to…

***

Buy Links

Available in e-format and paperback.

Amazon UK- http://www.amazon.co.uk/Romancing-Robin-Hood-Jenny-Kane-ebook/dp/B00M4838S2/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1407428558&sr=8-1&keywords=romancing+robin+hood

Amazon.com- http://www.amazon.co.uk/Romancing-Robin-Hood-Jenny-Kane-ebook/dp/B00M4838S2/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1407428558&sr=8-1&keywords=romancing+robin+hood

Kobo link – http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/romancing-robin-hood

Nook link- http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/romancing-robin-hood-jenny-kane/1121088562?ean=9781783754267

***

Happy reading everyone!

Jenny Kane xx

Robin of Sherwood Dreaming: Romancing Robin Hood

By Jenny Kane

On April 14, 2015

In Blog, Contemporary Romantic Fiction, crime, Historical fiction

Last night I enjoyed a rare moment of pure television indulgence- I watched the first two episodes of wonderful 1980’s television series, Robin of Sherwood with my teenage daughters. They bore up remarkably well with me pretty much quoting every line spoken before it came out the actor’s mouths!

Ever since I was a teenager I’ve had a serious outlaw obsession- all thanks to Robin of Sherwood. The moment I saw the first episode I was hooked- not just on the show, but on anything and everything to do with the legend. I watched every film and read every book on the subject of Robin Hood I could find. This interest lasted through my GCSE years, took me through an A’ level history project, a degree, and a PhD in Medieval ballad literature and crime!

For the past twenty years I’ve been looking for an excuse to go back through my old books- and with the writing of my latest novel, I found it. Although Romancing Robin Hood is 60% modern contemporary romance, the remaining 40% is a fourteenth century adventure. It was a real joy to read through all my old Robin Hood notes and relive the obsessions of my formative years.

Romancing Robin Hood – Blurb

Dr Grace Harper has loved the stories of Robin Hood ever since she first saw them on TV as a girl. Now, with her fortieth birthday just around the corner, she’s a successful academic in Medieval History, with a tenured position at a top university.

But Grace is in a bit of a rut. She’s supposed to be writing a textbook on a real-life medieval gang of high-class criminals – the Folvilles – but she keeps being drawn into the world of the novel she’s secretly writing – a novel which entwines the Folvilles with her long-time love of Robin Hood – and a feisty young girl named Mathilda, who is the key to a medieval mystery…

Meanwhile, Grace’s best friend Daisy – who’s as keen on animals as Grace is on the Merry Men – is unexpectedly getting married, and a reluctant Grace is press-ganged into being her bridesmaid. As Grace sees Daisy’s new-found happiness, she starts to re-evaluate her own life. Is her devotion to a man who may or may not have lived hundreds of years ago really a substitute for a real-life hero of her own? It doesn’t get any easier when she meets Dr Robert Franks – a rival academic who Grace is determined to dislike but finds herself being increasingly drawn to…

Here’s an extract from the modern part of the story to whet the appetite…

It was all Jason Connery’s fault, or maybe it was Michael Praed’s? As she crashed onto her worn leather desk chair Grace, after two decades of indecision, still couldn’t decide which of the two actors she preferred in the title role of Robin of Sherwood.

That was how it had all started, ‘The Robin Hood Thing’ as Daisy referred to it, with an instant and unremitting love for a television show. Yet, for Grace, it hadn’t been a crush in the usual way. She had only watched one episode of the hit eighties series and, with the haunting theme tune from Clannad echoing in her ears, had run upstairs to her piggy bank to see how much money she’d saved, and how much more cash she’d need, before she could spend all her pocket money on the complete video collection. After that, the young Grace had done every odd job her parents would pay her for so she could purchase a myriad of Connery and Praed posters with which to bedeck her room. But that was just the beginning. Within weeks Grace had become pathologically and forensically interested in anything and everything to do with the outlaw legend as a whole.

She’d watched all the Robin Hood films, vintage scenes of Douglas Fairbanks Jr and Errol Flynn, Richard Greene, Sean Connery, and Barry Ingram. As time passed, she winced and cringed her way through Kevin Costner’s comical but endearing attempt, and privately applauded Patrick Bergin’s darker and infinitely more realistic approach to the tale. Daisy had quickly learnt to never ever mention Russell Crowe’s adaption of the story – it was the only time she’d ever heard Grace swear using words that could have been as labelled as Technicolor as the movie had been.

The teenage Grace had read every story, every ballad, and every academic book, paper, and report on the subject. She’d hoarded pictures, paintings, badges, and stickers, along with anything and everything else she could find connected with Robin Hood, his band of outlaws, his enemies, Nottingham, Sherwood, Barnsdale, Yorkshire – and so it went on and on. The collection, now over twenty years in the making, had reached ridiculous proportions and had long since overflowed from her small terraced home to her university office, where posters lined the walls, and books about the legend, both serious and comical, crammed the overstuffed shelves.

Her undergraduates who’d chosen to study medieval economy and crime as a history degree option, and her postgraduates whose interest in the intricate weavings of English medieval society was almost as insane as her own, often commented on how much they liked Dr Harper’s office. Apparently it was akin to sitting in a mad museum of medievalism. Sometimes Grace was pleased with this reaction. Other times it filled her with depression, for that office, its contents, and the daily, non-stop flow of work was her life – her whole life – and sometimes she felt that it was sucking her dry. Leaving literally no time for anything else – nor anyone else. Boyfriends had come and gone, but few had any hope of matching up to the figure she’d fallen in love with as a teenager. A man who is quite literally a legend is a hard act to follow…

***

Buy links (Available in all e-formats and paperback)

Amazon UK- http://www.amazon.co.uk/Romancing-Robin-Hood-Jenny-Kane-ebook/dp/B00M4838S2/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1407428558&sr=8-1&keywords=romancing+robin+hood

Amazon.com- http://www.amazon.co.uk/Romancing-Robin-Hood-Jenny-Kane-ebook/dp/B00M4838S2/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1407428558&sr=8-1&keywords=romancing+robin+hood

Nook- http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/romancing-robin-hood-jenny-kane/1121088562?ean=9781783754267

Kobo- http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/romancing-robin-hood

***

I hope you enjoyed that little extract from my time slip novel.

Happy reading

Jenny

xxx

Jenny Kane: Coffee, cupcakes, chocolate and contemporary fiction / Jennifer Ash: Medieval crime with hints of Ellis Peters and Robin Hood

Category: crime Page 22 of 23

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Robin of Sherwood Dreaming: Romancing Robin Hood

Category: crime Page 22 of 23

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