Category: crime Page 23 of 24

Café time all the time…

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.

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

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

Guest Post from Jane Risdon: Life gets in the way

By Jenny Kane

On April 13, 2015

In Blog, Contemporary Romantic Fiction, crime, News

Today I’m welcoming a fellow Accent author to my site- the lovely Jane Risdon.

Over to you Jane…

Hello Jenny and everyone, thanks so much for this opportunity to introduce myself and to chat about my writing and blogging with you. I really appreciate it and I hope you will find something here of interest which might lead you to delve into my work a little further.

A little about myself for those of you who have not already made my acquaintance. I came to writing a little later than I had wished. I’ve always wanted to write, but you know how it is, life gets in the way.

When I was young – still at school – I met a young rock musician whose band came to live next door whilst they were in England touring; it was love at first sight but I was due to go overseas and so it was four years later, and a lot of trips back and forth to England to visit him, before we got together long enough to get married. By this time I had a career in the Foreign and Commonwealth Office in London – I got a posting from Germany where I was working with the Ministry of Defence, to be near him eventually — so at least we got to spend some time together in the same country, and town, and sometimes even the same building now and again. Though we did share a house with some of his band in the early days. If you have a vivid imagination, let it wander….you won’t be far off the truth. My dreams of writing were put on hold. Someone had to have a regular income.

Later we ventured into the Music Business on the other side of the desk, and went into Artist Management, Production and Publishing. We managed Recording Artists, Song Writers, Record Producers, and Actors, for our sins, and we worked, travelled, and lived all over the world but mainly in Singapore, America, and Europe. So you can imagine touring with rock bands and spending months on the road, then months in recording studios trying to babysit a bunch of eighteen years olds, isn’t really conducive to writing, or anything else for that matter. Life as I knew it went flying past as I spent my time working hard to create and sustain success for our artists. Writing? Well, that was something I’d get round to one day.

I guess one of the good things to come out of my life experience working in the FCO and various other government-related jobs and within the International Music Business, is a wealth of stories. Stories about life on the road, and stories inspired by my time working within the corridors of Whitehall and stories about life in Hollywood living and working with the movers and shakers in the Movie and Music Industry. We worked with some of the most iconic people in those businesses and yes, I admit it, Pamela Anderson kissed my cheek and everyone told me not to wash for a week, and working on Baywatch was a blast; the guys liked it anyway. David Cassidy was a babe, Alice Cooper was a real gent, Gloria Estefan a star, Weird Al was a laugh, and working with the guys from Queen, was, well, an experience! Just name dropping a few to get you in the mood.

Having survived earthquakes, tornadoes, race riots in LA, fires, floods and mudslides, I am waiting for the plague of locusts, knowing my luck they are sure to come. So I knew that there was something out there, keeping me alive, so I could write.

I’ve always been an avid reader of Crime, Thrillers, Mysteries, and Espionage, so it is little wonder that when I eventually got the chance to have some time to myself, I found myself writing Crime stories, sometimes with an Espionage edge, and often with a musical theme as well. Write about what you know, right?

If it hadn’t been for an old friend, someone who is now a very successful writer in her own lunch-time, I might never have had the courage to go naked with my work. She was originally my husband’s Fan Club secretary – well, the group’s – and she was also a rock and pop journalist working on music magazines, interviewing rock stars, and writing for Jackie and Romeo and the like as well. Later she wrote books which became a huge hit with fans of romance and comedy, and she still is.

We got chatting about my stories and she was kind enough to read a load of them, and she loved them, some made her laugh, others made her cry and some made her nostalgic for the good old days of Rock n’ Roll. The cool thing is she encouraged me to carry on, and because of her I am now writing full time.

I started off with online publications in writing blogs which went down well with readers, so I even ventured into Flash Fiction which I must say I really love. Anyway, eventually some of my short stories were Pod-cast and soon people were asking me to write stories for anthologies in aid of various Charities. They were published in print and e-book formats and were well received. I was chuffed to bits. I have written for a couple of online magazines too. In the past the only magazines I’d written for were Music related.

You can find some of my Short Stories and Flash Fiction with Pod-casts, over on Morgen Bailey’s Writing Blog:

http://wp.me/p18Ztn-4ID Follow this and you’ll find links to my other work or just type Jane Risdon into Morgen’s search bar and lots of my work will pop up.

I don’t want you to think I just write short stories; I don’t, but more about that a little later if you haven’t dropped off and gone into a coma.

Blogging came to my attention and so I thought I’d have a bash at it as a means of reaching potential readers and also because I love writing. I get to write about anything I want and I do. I love photography so I try and add a few photos taken when I’ve been out walking, or visiting places. Last time I looked over 2,000 people were following me on WordPress. Get a load of that!

My WordPress Author Page is at: http://wp.me/2dg55

I also have a Facebook Author Page where the numbers are creeping up to 1,500, so I think I am doing something right.

My Facebook Author Page is at: www.facebook.com/JaneRisdon2

Through my blog I got to know another crime writer who is also an Assistant Professor of Creative Writing in the USA. She has been a wonderful support to me which I appreciate so much. In 2013 she asked me to contribute two crime stories to her anthology In A Word: Murder, which had to be set in the world of publishing.

In A word: Murder is in print and e-book – UK/USA links:

http://www.amazon.com/In-Word-Murder-An-Anthology-ebook/dp/B00GFXNZYE/ref=sr_1_8?ie=UTF8&qid=1383674275&sr=8-8&keywords=in+a+word%3A+murder

http://www.amazon.co.uk/In-Word-Murder-An-Anthology-ebook/dp/B00GFXNZYE/ref=sr_1_12?ie=UTF8&qid=1383674321&sr=8-12&keywords=In+word+Murder

Various award winning authors were contributing as well, so you can imagine the trepidation I felt putting my work alongside theirs.

To cut a long story short – I can hear the huge sigh of relief – my stories were well received. Dreamer – about a London based rock band in 1989 about to hit the big time when the big money was about to roll in, with a super-star American manager wanting to sign them, who wrote what suddenly becomes an issue, leading to murder. (Extract below!)

Hollywood Cover Up – about an English girl working as a PA to a big Hollywood mover and shaker who witnesses something at an Industry bash involving a Presidential candidate, and is fired from her job. Unable to find work she decides to write a novel based on her experiences, and soon she and her publisher are in mortal danger, not just from the Politician and the Hollywood elite, but from the Secret Service too, all wanting to prevent the publication of her book.

My work came to the attention of various publishers in 2014 and after a lot of thought and consideration I am now published by Accent Press Ltd. My first outing with them was in their Halloween Anthology, Shiver.

Shiver – links: http://t.co/qw98OdKs9C

Shiver on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NUofhdwu8JE

My story ‘The Haunting of Anne Chambers,’ has been really well received with some fab comments on Amazon which has cheered me no end. This was my first real attempt at a Ghost Story and I set it in Cornwall where I’ve worked over many years with some of my artists. It’s about Pirates (privateers) Anne and Andrew who are lovers. They’re planning to run away together to a new life after one last raid. But when Anne is knocked out cold, she comes round to find that the world has changed disturbingly.

Wishing on a Star followed Christmas 2014 with my short story, ‘Merry Christmas Everybody,’ included.

Wishing on A Star – links: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Wishing-Star-seasonal-collection-stories-ebook/dp/B00PQL5H3I/ref=sr_1_fkmr0_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1416250379&sr=1-1-fkmr0&keywords=Wishing+on+a+Star+by+Accent+Press+Ltd

This story is based on true events with names etc., changed to preserve the dignity of those involved. There are tensions in the studio when Twister record their new album. The band members are at each other’s throats and someone is messing up their recordings. The band blames their producer, but it soon becomes clear that someone unexpected is trying to get a message of festive goodwill through to them….

If you haven’t dropped into a coma I shall add some further detail here about the full length books I am writing. As I said before I write mainly Crime/Mystery stories, although I have ventured into other genres from time to time. For the last couple of years I’ve been working on a number of projects, all in various stages of completion. I know, I know, I get it. I see many other authors publishing one, two, three books a year and here I am plodding along year after year without a full length book published. I’d hoped to have completed all my projects early last year but a fall down the stairs, Christmas 2012, put paid to that. I’ve been unable to spend too long writing as a result of breaking my shoulder and collar bones in a peculiar way. My consultant, a professor who is also an Army Colonel, says he’s never seen injuries like it on a lady of any age, and usually only on soldiers in combat or young lads coming off their Harley’s after doing the ton. When I do something, I do it well. Hence things are a little slower than expected. And following my operation saga, I am now having physiotherapy to get mobility and strength back in my left arm and shoulder.

Back to my main project. Ms Birdsong Investigates is a series I am working on. Lavinia Birdsong is a fortyish former MI5 Officer forced into ‘voluntary retirement,’ following a disastrous mission which included her now ex-lover and partner, on secondment from MI6. He got sent to Moscow and she ended up in The Vale of the White Horse, in the fictional village of Ampney Parva, where she is trying to keep a low profile, hiding from her enemies and her ex-lover, whilst also trying to make a life for herself. She can’t help herself, old habits die hard and soon she has her fellow villagers under surveillance, nothing heavy, just curiosity, causing her to keep notes on them and their activities. Lavinia soon finds herself investigating a missing woman. From the shifty playboy Solicitor to the Russian Oligarch in the early stages of Alzheimer’s; nothing is what is seems. Murder is afoot. Lavinia is in her element.

Ms Birdsong Investigates and a couple of other books I am working on in the series should, I hope, be finished later in the summer ready for publication, if my publisher likes the end product of course. You can find some information about my projects and writing, on my WordPress blog and of course the books I have been published in are available via Amazon. Sadly one book I contributed two stories towards, Telling Tales, in aid of charity, is no longer in print, but the other three are still on sale. Both books for Accent are available also. If you buy/read anything do please leave a comment on Amazon and my blog, I would really appreciate it and so would the other authors. I have an Author Page on Amazon with links to my work as well.

Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.co.uk/-/e/B00I3GJ2Y8

I Guest Blog often and have been interviewed several times, and also written articles and you will find links on my Author page. I have a regular Guest Blogging spot on Creative Frontiers where I have 300 words, every fortnight, to come up with stories about my life and experiences in music. If you find yourself over there, do check them out and let me know what you think; they have a comments section.

Creative Frontiers: Parts 1: Snore Poison so I’ll remember it:

http://creative-frontiers.com/blog/writing-desk/snore-poison-ill-remember/

Creative Frontiers: Part 2: The Auditions: http://wp.me/p3YvQS-14Q

Creative Frontiers: I must have a criminal mind:

http://creative-frontiers.com/blog/profiles/must-criminal-mind/#comment-20529

I’ve got a blog spot over on Chill with a Book:

Chill with a book, blog spot:

http://chillwithabook.blogspot.com.es/2015/02/wishing-on-s

***

I have also contributed to the anthologies, Telling Tales Anthology by Writers for Welfare (http://www.lulu.com) and I Am Woman Anthology vol 1 (http://www.amazon.co.uk/Am-Woman-Anthology-Anthologies-ebook/dp/B00817P8DI/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1427798013&sr=8-1&keywords=I+am+woman+volume+1)

***

Extract from my Short Story Dreamer published in In A Word: Murder.

Dreamer

(c) Jane Risdon 2013

No-one spoke, they couldn’t look him in the eye; instead they fidgeted and stared at the floor, the mixing desk, anywhere rather than register the hurt and shock on his face; anywhere other than confront the affect their duplicity had upon their now former band mate.

‘I formed this band, at school. I asked you to join me!’ Jake nearly choked, his throat tight and dry. He stared at his three best mates in the world, his band, disbelief all over his face.

‘Why?’ he almost sobbed, ‘What the hell’s going on?’ He held his Gibson to his chest as if it would comfort him, he never felt whole without it in his hands.

‘Nothing personal mate, you gotta believe that, we can still be mates.’ Bozz, pretty-boy lead singer, and last to join the band all those years ago tried to brighten his voice as if it would soften his words.

‘Nothing bloody personal, what is it then, eh? Tell me what’s not fuckin’ personal about being sacked from my own fuckin’ band?’ Jake’s voice broke and he turned away, fighting tears welling up.

‘They want someone more, well, you know, sexy.’ Rab said bashful all of a sudden. He carried on restringing his Warwick bass, determined not to see Jake’s hurt.

‘Sexy! Fuckin’ sexy? What the fuck?’ Jake couldn’t help yelling. ‘Don’t I pull enough is that it?’ He was outraged. ‘I get totty, more than plenty. What’s it gotta do with them or the friggin’ music anyway?’

‘The record company won’t sign us if you’re still in the band.’ Mickey twirled his sticks as he spoke. He was always the ambitious one and he was damned if he’d let personal allegiances get in the way of his chance to hit the big time. If the label wanted Jake to go, Jake had to go.

‘More of a showman sort of thing; the girls like that,’ whispered Bozz, ‘a proper axe-man.’

‘Won’t sign the band? Are you friggin nuts? I write the bloody songs.’ Jake towered over Mickey, the Gibson now resting against the SSL mixing desk, his fists at his sides, ready to strike. ‘Not enough of a …..? They saw the festival video; they loved it, that’s why they wanted us they said.’

‘They think you’re too static, you don’t move enough, and I think they’ve got a point,’ Mickey smirked, ‘you just ain’t sexy mate. As for pulling, well, you pull all right but you’re too scared to do anything about it, it doesn’t look good; you’re almost married, it’s not cool.’

‘I don’t fuckin’ pull…what about you then, eh Mickey? Who do you pull eh?’

Jake grabbed a nearby mic stand, swinging it at Mickey who ducked down in his seat just in time, ‘Hey, man, cool it!’

‘Seems they want us, Jake, not you,’ Rab looked up sheepishly, ‘and the video convinced them you don’t cut it live mate. They want a real axe-man, like Page or Townsend or Slash even…’

‘Yeah, sorry mate, after coming to all the gigs, that video did it,’ Bozz shrugged at his friend, glancing at the others, ‘they don’t think you’ve got it, we tried to change their minds, didn’t we?’

‘Right! I just bet you friggin’ did.’ Jake shook his long blonde curls and grabbed the mic stand again. ‘So what’s the deal then? Who’ve you got just happened to be waiting in the wings then, eh? Not that fucker from Dawn Treader?’ Jake stuck his face right into Mickey’s. ‘Yeah, that’s about right, that wanker’s always hanging around you isn’t he, Mickey – got well in has he?’

‘Cool it Jake.’ Their engineer/producer Bo Baldacci came into the studio, DAT copies of the final mixes for their label financed demo ready to hand over to the A&R manager at Gypsy Records. ‘Take that shit outside; I don’t want any aggro in here.’

‘So you’re some sort of bloody Freddie Mercury or Robert Plant, are you Bozz? That’s a friggin’ laugh! And don’t forget our ultra-sexy bass player, what a joke! Of course we’ve got Moonie on the drums, or is it John Bonham?’ Jake fumed.

‘If I’m out the band you can’t use my songs, so hand over all the mixes Bo, let them write their own fuckin’ songs, see how far they get then.’ Jake made a grab for the DATs and Mickey leapt up and smacked Jake in the face with his unopened can of Stella.

‘They’re not just your songs you pillock, we co-wrote them, you agreed; four-way splits on all the songs, so they’re not YOUR bleedin’ songs anymore!’ Mickey ducked as the mic stand headed his way again.

‘But Mickey, we never did…..’ Bozz didn’t finish as the mic stand whooshed over his head.

‘I’m taking them back; you’ll get nothing without them, nothing without me. I can prove they’re mine, you can’t.’

‘Cut it out!’ Bo shouted grabbing the mic stand as it narrowly missed his head as well. ‘Jake, haul your arse out of here, now!’

Jake held his face where Mickey had bashed him; eyes filled with hatred he grabbed his guitar case and placed his beloved Gibson inside. He took his book of lyrics off the desk and shoved it inside his back-pack. Bozz stared at the floor, totally gutted at what had just happened to his childhood mate. He really didn’t like this one bit. Rab shook his long brown hair, his face in his hands, seriously freaked by it all. But neither would rock the boat, ruin their chances, and miss out of the chance of a lifetime, however distasteful.

Only Mickey seemed to be fine with things, he glared at Jake, and then sat back down tapping out a rhythm on the arm of the sofa with his new Zildjian sticks. The band was getting sponsorship deals for their gear, arranged by the record company; lots of perks were coming their way. And not just perks; there were the advances from the record deal and the publishing to look forward to. Why should they lose out on all this because of Jake? Nope, he wasn’t going to miss out because of that stupid bastard. No way.

‘Go home Jake, I’ll get your stack to you and the rest of your gear tomorrow.’ Bo held the control room door open.

‘This isn’t the end, you bunch of shits; you’ll come crawling back when you need new material. Well screw you, screw the fuckin’ lot of you!’ Jake kicked the desk as he passed Bo…

***

A taster from my Short Story, Dreamer, which is included in In A Word: Murder and is available on Amazon. The anthology is in memory of Crime Writer, Editor and blogger Maxine Clarke and all proceeds go to The Princess Alice Hospice where she passed away.

I really hope you enjoyed my Guest Blog and the sampler from my story. I’d love to know your thoughts.

Thanks so much Jenny for allowing me this opportunity to connect with your readers. I really appreciate it.

***

Wow!! What an amazing life!!! Thank you ever so much for visiting today Jane.

Happy reading everyone,

Jenny x