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

Tag: RNA

Opening Lines with Sonja Price: The Giants Look Down

I’m delighted to welcome friend and fellow Romantic Novelist Association member, Sonja Price, to my place today.

Sit back and enjoy her opening lines from The Giants Look Down.

Driving to work one day, my imagination was ignited by a report on the radio about the Great Earthquake of 2005. In addition to news of the devastating tragedy, I discovered that the Vale of Kashmir is breathtakingly beautiful. Some of the highest mountains in the world cradle a valley lush in sycamore woods and fields of saffron interspersed with a necklace of lakes. A spectacular place to set a story, it also boasts a rich history of maharajas, princes and princesses. But this paradise has been spoilt by strife since the mostly Muslim Vale of Kashmir chose to become part of its Hindu neighbour, India.

There must be a story in there somewhere, I thought. What would happen if a 10-year-old Hindu girl called Jaya decided to become a doctor much to chagrin of her mother and the patriarchal society of 1960s Kashmir? My aim was to entertain and amuse the reader and not want to take sides. At the same time, I tried to depict the situation as sensitively and genuinely as possible. Drawing attention to the plight of Kashmiris could surely not be a bad thing in itself, could it?

I love to write about unfamiliar terrain and going to Kashmir, if only in my mind with the help of online resources, picture books and interviews with Indians, has been a wonderful journey that started in my car!

First 500 words from The Giants Look Down

Kashmir 1967

When I was ten, I found out what I wanted to be. In fact, I can remember the very day I decided to become a healer. On that late summer’s morning, I could still see my breath when I climbed up into our battered old Land Rover. You know what those kinds of vehicles are like. I was up high, and I felt so much bigger anyway because I was in the front next to Pa. If I shut my eyes and concentrate, I can still smell his pipe smoke lingering on the leather seats. The radio was on that morning because Pa, being such a huge cricket fan, had started listening to the Ashes long before the sun cut the peaks of the Nun Kun. In India, you hear talk of three things on every village corner: cricket, movies and politics. The Vale of Kashmir was no exception.

The tiny red figure of Lord Vishnu, the protector, bobbed about under the rear-view mirror as I scanned the skies for golden eagles. I spotted one, riding the winds, soaring and circling before dropping hundreds of feet to pluck a groundhog from the mountain slopes. All around us, tiny mauve and yellow flowers danced in the breeze as the snowy summits of Pir Panjal meditated in the early morning sun. Beneath them, rocks gave way to forests, emerald green valleys and the glint of the Jhelum River. In the far distance, Wular Lake slumbered peacefully under its blanket of mist. Above us, the Thajiwas glacier sparkled ice blue beside the cone-like peak of Gwash Brari where settlements hugged its foothills. All Pa’s territory, because he was the only doctor for miles. The crowd roared and the man on the radio was getting terribly excited when a posh voice cut in:

‘News has just reached us that a suicide attack in Indian-administered Kashmir has killed three people, including the bomber, and injured more than seventeen. The explosion occurred in the Nowgam area on the outskirts of Srinagar, the region’s summer capital. A Pakistan-based Islamic militant group has claimed responsibility for the explosion in a telephone call to local news agency Current News Service.’

Pa switched off the radio. ‘Madmen! Outsiders! Trying to turn us against each other! Sufi, Hindu, Sikh, what does it matter? We’ve been smoking beedi together in the teahouses of Dal Lake for centuries. Long before the British came. Long before Partition. Now they make us play the Great Game and fight like cockerels. Should I not attend to Mrs Durrani because she is a Muslim? And Kaliq? Should we throw our beloved servant out? How could the gods tolerate bloodshed in our beautiful vale?’

I certainly didn’t understand. How could grown-ups fight and kill each other when we children were always being told to be nice to each other? Diwali, our festival of light, includes their Muslim god Ali and Ramadan includes our Lord Ram, so how were we so different? It didn’t make any sense.

About the author: Sonja lives in Somerset with her family and dog. She’s a member of the Romantic Novelists’ Association and her short stories have appeared in Stories For Homes, the Shelter Anthology of Short Stories and In these Tangles, Beauty Lies, an anthology in aid of the Beanstalk Trust for children with reading difficulties. Her debut novel The Giants Look Down (2016) made her a finalist for the Joan Hessayon Award. She’s currently working on the story about a widow’s quest to resolve the mysterious circumstances surrounding her husband’s death out in the Canadian Wilds.



Twitter:                       @PriceSonja

Facebook:                   Sonja Price Author

You can find The Giants Look Down as a paperback or e-book on:



Many thanks Sonja,

Happy reading everyone,

Jenny xx

Guest Post from Sonja Price: A Flight of Fancy

I’m delighted to welcome fellow novelist Sonja Price to my site today to talk about her amazing novel, The Giants Look Down.

Why not grab a cuppa, put your feet up for five minutes, and have a read.

Over to you Sonja…                              

I’ve never been to Kashmir, but I’ve based my novel THE GIANTS LOOK DOWN there. What a cheek you may say! But writers go where their imaginations take them and once mine had been ignited – by a report on the car radio of the Great Earthquake of 2005- I couldn’t put the spirit back in the bottle. I discovered that the Vale of Kashmir is breathtakingly beautiful. Some of the highest mountains in the world cradle a valley lush in sycamore woods and fields of saffron interspersed with a necklace of lakes. A spectacular place to set a story, it also boasts a rich history of maharajas, princes and princesses. But this paradise has been spoilt by strife since the mostly Muslim Vale of Kashmir chose to become part of its Hindu neighbour, India. Two wars have been fought over it and India and Pakistan still stand their ground on a glacier at the highest battlefield of the world, where avalanches claim more lives than armed conflict.

There must be a story in there somewhere, I thought! What would happen if a 10-year-old Hindu girl called Jaya decided to become a doctor much to chagrin of her mother and the patriarchal society of 1960s Kashmir? My aim was solely to entertain and amuse the reader.  I did not want to take sides yet at the same time I tried to depict the situation as sensitively and genuinely as possible and drawing attention to the plight of Kashmiris could surely not be a bad thing in itself, I thought.

I wanted to show Jaya growing up and negotiating the rapids of love when she falls for the son of the family she later stays with in Scotland. Does she have to choose between dashing Alastair, a student of architecture and lover of jazz music, and her dream of becoming a doctor and returning to Kashmir to build a clinic far up in the mountains? Well you’ll just have to read the book to find out!

Going to Kashmir, if only in my mind, albeit with the help of online resources, picture books and interviews with Indians, has been a wonderful journey that started in my car!

Blurb: At the age of 10, Jaya Vaidya decides to follow in her father’s footsteps and become a doctor against her mother’s wishes and all that the patriarchal community of 1906s Kashmir expects of her. When disaster strikes, Jaya is faced with obstacles as insurmountable as the Himalayas. She is transplanted to Scotland, where she has to navigate both a foreign culture and the rapids of love. Just how far will she go to achieve her dream? (Published by Robert Hale, 2016)

Find a copy of THE GIANTS LOOK DOWN here:


Author Bio: I live in Somerset but am always hopping on and off planes because I teach English at Jena University in Germany. I studied at the University of East Anglia and completed a PhD in English Literature. I’m a member of the Romantic Novelists’ Association and my short stories have appeared in Stories For Homes, the Shelter Anthology of Short Stories and In these Tangles, Beauty Lies, an anthology in aid of the Beanstalk Trust for children with reading difficulties. My debut novel The Giants Look Down came out in 2016 and made me a finalist for the Joan Hessayon Award.



Twitter:                       @PriceSonja

Facebook:                   Sonja Price Author

You can find THE GIANTS LOOK DOWN as a paperback or e-book on:


Many thanks Sonja, for a brilliant blog.

Happy reading everyone,

Jenny x

Interview with Caroline James: Coffee, Tea, The Caribbean & Me

I love featuring other authors on my blog- there are so many brilliant books out there to read- and so many fascinating writers behind them.

Today I’m delighted to welcome Caroline James for a cuppa and a chat about her latest novel.

Over to you Caroline…

coffee and cake

Enormous thanks for hosting me and my new book Jenny, I’m thrilled to be on your lovely blog.

What inspired you to write Coffee, Tea, The Caribbean & Me?

I read an article that stated that one in three people over the age of fifty, in the UK, live on their own.  It hooked me and I started to research. I soon found that are great many fifty plus people who are on their own through a partner’s death, divorce, separation and of course, choice, and many of them don’t cope too well. For example, thirty years of marriage comes to an end – how do you get back in the groove? Or your partner dies and you don’t know how to begin life as a single? I decided to write a book that covered these issues and chose my two favourite characters to lead the way. Jo and Hattie came from a previous book, set in the 1980s, and were perfect as they fitted the age category now and I worked them into the story as single friends who are beginning again when they suddenly find themselves on their own.

CTTCM cover

Do you model any of your characters after people you know? If so, do these people see themselves in your characters?

I model characters from experiences I’ve had with people over the years and then make it all up. My books often feature the hospitality industry and that’s something I know well having worked in it for most of my life. It’s a fantastic environment to find characters. I represented several celebrity chefs for a number of years and have been tempted to use some of the weird and whacky situations I’ve found myself in but I think readers might find some of the things that happened a little far-fetched!

What type of research did you have to do for your book?

Most research can be done on the internet; how lucky we are as writers today. But I like to immerse myself in the surroundings I write about. Coffee, Tea, The Caribbean & Me is set in Cumbria and Barbados – both places where I have spent a considerable amount of time and both destinations that inspired me to let my characters roam free.

cumbria 3

If you were stranded on a desert island with three other people, fictional or real, who would they be and why?

The chef in me would want to have the late, great Keith Floyd along. I’m sure he liven up any dull moments and keep us all slightly sozzled with a good supply of booze, while he cooked something scrumptious. Bear Grylls would ensure we survived and bring some adventure to the island, as well as a decent supply of fresh fodder for Keith to cook. Finally, I’d like Oscar Wilde to lounge beside me with a constant drip-feed of delicious literary quips.

What excites you the most about your book?

I soon realized that the book has the potential to become part of a series. It is the sequel to my debut book, Coffee Tea The Gypsy & Me and although a stand-alone read, it incorporates characters from my previous books including: So, You Think You’re A Celebrity…Chef? and when I bring them into the next book it is like meeting up with old friends. Two of my favourite authors, Maeve Binchy and Mary Wesley did this with their writing and, subconsciously, I seem to be doing it with mine.


Coffee, Tea ,The Caribbean &   ( )

Twitter – @carolinejames12    (  )

Facebook – Caroline James Author  (  )


Author Bio:

Caroline James was born in Cheshire and wanted to be a writer from an early age. She trained, however, in the catering trade and worked and travelled both at home and abroad. Caroline’s debut novel, Coffee, Tea, The Gypsy & Me shot to #3 on Amazon and was E-book of the Week in The Sun newspaper. Her second novel, So, You Think You’re A Celebrity… Chef? has been described as wickedly funny: ‘AbFab meets MasterChef in a Soap…’ The manuscript for Coffee, Tea, The Caribbean & Me was a Finalist at The Write Stuff, London Book Fair 2015 and the judge’s comments included: “Caroline is a natural story-teller with a gift for humour in her writing.” Her next novel, Coffee, Tea, The Boomers & Me will be published autumn 2016.

Caroline has owned and run many catering related businesses and cookery is a passion alongside her writing, combining the two with her love of the hospitality industry and romantic fiction. As a media agent, Caroline represented many well-known chefs and is currently writing a TV script and accompanying book about the life of a celebrity chef. She has published short stories and is a member of the RNA. Caroline writes articles on food and celebrity based interviews and is Feature Editor for an online lifestyle magazine. When she’s not running her hospitality business and writing, Caroline can generally be found with her nose in a book and her hand in a box of chocolates, she also likes to climb mountains and contemplate life.


Many thanks for such a great interview Caroline.

Happy reading everyone,

Jenny x



The Christmas Do

Up and down the country- whichever country that may be- men and women are laying down their laptops, putting aside their PC’s, closing their diaries, and switching on the answer machines so that they can head out on their ‘Work Christmas Do!’

As a self employed writer, if I went on a ‘Work Christmas Do’ all that would happen would be that I’d have a gingerbread muffin alongside my usual cup of coffee.

Or should I say, would ‘usually’ be- because this year I was invited to the RNA Christmas meal for the SW Chapter (Wilts and Somerset)! I’d like to thank the lovely Rachel Brimble for organising a wonderful evening at The George, Lacock last week.

RNA evening in lacock

Even though I’ve worked ever since I was 15 years old, this was my very first works Christmas outing. Every year until this one, something has happened to stop me attending. Whether it was illness, snow, flood, bad timing, or life just not playing fair- or in the case of the company I have been employed for as an outworker for the last 15 years- never being invited, something has always prevented me attending. So as you can imagine, as I was travelling from Devon to Wiltshire to attend, I was on tenterhooks, waiting for something to wrong.

stuck in snow

OK, so when I got to Lacock I initially went to the wrong pub – such mistakes are very me! But once I’d found everyone, I had the best time; catching up on what we’ve all been up to over the last year, and putting the writing world in general to rights. Not only did I have a wonderful time with my author friends, I met new kid on the block Fay Keenan, who turned out to be an even bigger Robin of Sherwood fan than me!

Writing, by its very nature, is an isolating profession; this makes any writer get together very value. At Christmas, when our loved ones and friends are off to party after party, and we’re all living in our own imaginations at our desks, such gatherings are more precious than ever.

Whatever the time of year, whether there are Christmas cracker to pull or not, writers need writers- without each other to talk to, I swear their would be homes for bewildered authors springing up all over the world!

So once again- thanks Rachel- you’re a star.

Happy Christmas Do-ing Everyone!

Jenny x



Guest Post from R J Gould: Men and Romance?

I’m thrilled to welcome the lovely R J Gould to my site today- a.k.a Richard Gould. This is an excellent blog, which asks a very important question.

Over to you Richard…

At the outset I should point out than I’m a male author writing romantic fiction – my photo is a giveaway. I’m not unique, but I am a rarity. Like Jenny, I’m a member of the Romantic Novelists Association and I first met her at the 2015 annual conference when over 95% of participants were female. Also like Jenny, I’m published by Accent Press, my novels sit in the Contemporary Women’s Fiction category. I do sometimes wonder whether I should sign up to Male Romantics Anonymous on the assumption that the counselling might morph me into a crime or espionage writer.

But hang on a minute. Romance is about the creation and nurturing of relationships and more or less fifty percent of those involved in this activity are men. So surely there should be as many male writers and readers of romantic fiction as females. Traditionally, the romantic novel has featured a woman’s quest for a male along a pathway fraught with challenges due to inequality between the genders. In modern society women can be more powerful, more sexually and socially confident, and more successful than men. They can take the lead in starting, maintaining and ending relationships. My writing is as likely to feature insecure men and confident alpha females as the other way round, which does no more than reflect the real world.

The romance genre is a broad category and what I write perhaps sits on the fringes – I certainly don’t do starry-eyed fiction. My protagonists are often middle aged with juggernaut loads of baggage to offload ahead of starting a new relationship or strengthening a current one. Humour, often dark, is an important element in my novels. My readers are predominantly female; feedback indicates that they appreciate the insight provided by a male author writing from the male protagonist’s point of view. If you do read anything of mine, I’d be interested to discover whether you feel there’s a clear distinction between my writing and that of female authors.

The occasional male reader turns up, in fact my favourite ever review was written by a male, his comment including: “…the characters are recognisable in an East Enders meets F. Scott Fitzgerald sort of way, that twinning an art in itself.”

I think one aspect of my work that puts it in the romance category is that it’s character driven. Of course plot is essential, but for me the starting point, beyond a decision about the broad theme, is always character. My inspiration comes from observing people, followed by the make believe about their thoughts and actions. I get to know them as the story unfolds; they grow as the plot develops and frequently drive the narrative forward. When I start writing I have the beginning and end point of a novel and some mid-story events that I want to include, but I don’t plan in detail at this stage.

My two published novels – ‘A Street Café Named Desire’ and ‘The Engagement Party’ –emerged from ideas sparked by actual events which set me off on a fictitious journey with fictitious characters. Two further novels, due for release either in late 2015 or early 2016, don’t have that real life starting point. Nothing Man begins with our hero plotting suicide (yes, it is humorous), and Jack and Jill Went Downhill traces the ups and downs of a relationship that begins at university on Fresher’s Big Party Night.

The Engagement Party

The Engagement Party

Wayne and Clarissa are a young London couple whose immediate families are about to meet for the first time. Trying to create harmony is going to be challenging because there are eight parents, step-parents and partners to deal with. Wayne comes from a working class background and Clarissa, an upper-middle class one, a further potential cause of tension. They are deeply in love, but friction arising from the forthcoming gathering has created a rift, and it’s touch and go whether their relationship is strong enough to survive the event.

The start

‘I’m sure you’ll be very happy, dear,’ her mother had said when she’d broken the news of their engagement. It had been a statement of great craft in indicating the exact opposite of what the combination of words superficially suggested. It was accompanied by the look that Clarissa had been subjected to many times over the years – smile to smirk to frown to smirk to smile. She knew exactly what was implied; “you silly girl, you’ve made another wrong decision and I’ll be the one who has to pick up the pieces.”

‘Have you told your father yet?’ she then asked, all part of the post-divorce competition for attention and preferential treatment. Clarissa ignored the question, not wanting to give her mother the pleasure of knowing that her father had still to meet her fiancé. That evening she’d popped in to give him the news.

‘Where does he work?’ he’d asked, ahead of even knowing the man’s name.

‘He delivers sandwiches,’ she’d replied with mischievous deliberation. There followed a rare moment of paternal speechlessness. ‘His name is Wayne,’ she’d added. Her father had responded with a patronising nod, indicating that he thought the name highly appropriate to the trade.

Clarissa recognised that her father was a complete and utter snob and her mother was a close second. And if pushed she would happily admit that she was too – a product of her parents, enhanced by fourteen years at prestigious independent girls schools. She was well versed in the subtle nuances of dress, style, behaviour, and expectations that went with upper-middle class status. Her ‘you can have everything you want’ only-child upbringing was poles apart from Wayne’s experience of relative poverty, a broken home, bog standard comprehensive schooling, and a flight from education at sixteen. Although her parents had also separated, it wasn’t the same as for Wayne – for a start the split hadn’t brought on any money problems.

 A Street Cafe Named Desire

A Street Café Named Desire

When David meets Bridget at a school reunion, he unexpectedly finds himself falling for her. With problems at work and a failing marriage, David feels he’s going nowhere, and mysterious, enigmatic Bridget draws him out of his shell. He’s overjoyed when, against all odds, she returns his interest, but what is it in her past that makes her reluctant to reveal her true feelings? As their relationship progresses, David starts to think he may realise his dreams – but will he get everything he wants, or is it all too good to be true?

The start

He was forty-three. Autumn shouldn’t be such a surprise any more, but the annual explosion of colour never ceased to amaze him.

Here they were at their twenty-five year school reunion, crowded around the bar area of the upmarket Hotel Marlborough in Henley. Huge sash windows provided a magnificent view of a fast-flowing, grey River Thames. Rowers were flying downstream. Beyond the river was a steep bank with a dramatic display of early autumn trees.

‘David. You’re David!’

Turning, he was clamped in a bear hug by a woman whose strong grip took his breath away. A face with two scarlet lips came hurtling towards him. His desperate attempt to avoid impact failed and their lips collided.

‘Well, well. David. Incredible – just incredible.’

What did this ‘incredible’ mean? That he’d hardly changed? That he’d transformed beyond imagination? She stepped back and her vice-like grip transferred to his shoulders.

‘David, David.’

How long would this continue – wasn’t she going to advance the conversation? He knew he was David. Obviously she did too. Unfortunately he couldn’t assist because his natural response – hello Alice, hello Barbara, Clare, Diane, Elizabeth, Fiona, or whatever – was impossible. He had no idea who she was.

‘You do remember me, don’t you?’



Buy links-

USA The Engagement Party:

UK The Engagement Party:

USA: A Street Cafe Named Desire:

UK A Street Cafe Named Desire:

richard gould photo

Contact info:




Twitter:           @rjgould_author


Richard lives in Cambridge and works for a national educational charity. He has published in a wide range of journals, newspapers and magazines on social mobility and educating able young people. His fiction, writing under the half-hearted pseudonym R J Gould, is contemporary, humorous, and loosely romantic. He joined the New Writers’ Scheme of the Romantic Novelists Association and soon afterwards, was taken on by publisher Accent Press. ‘A Street Café Named Desire’ was released in December 2014 and ‘The Engagement Party’ in May 2015.  R J Gould is a member of Cambridge Writers, where he leads the Commercial Editing Group. He was the organisation’s short story competition winner in 2010, awarded third place in 2015, and his writing was commended in 2012 and 2014.


Many thanks Richard.

I have never understood why more men don’t write romance, and why those that do often use female pen names. As you say, it takes two people to form a relationship. The problem is the same in erotic fiction. very few men write the genre, and those who do tend to use female names. A great shame.

Happy reading everyone,

Jenny x

The Romantic Novelist’s Association Conference: A Lesson in Hope and Hanging in There

This weekend I was lucky enough to attend my very first Romantic Novelist’s Association (RNA) Conference. I use the word ‘lucky’ advisedly, because as with First Great Western trains were on strike, I had to take a very imaginative route to actually get from Devon to London. But it was very much worth it.

Jen and Kd

Jenny Kane and Kd Grace

Over the years I have attended many writing events and conferences, but they have all been of the more ‘adult’ variety. This was the first time I had been to one as ‘Jenny’ and not ‘Kay.’ As my train pulled into Waterloo my sense of excitement was great. Not only was I going to meet some of my fellow Accent authors and my dear ‘Xcite’ friend Kd Grace (aka Grace Marshall), but I was actually going to an event! I have missed loads of amazing events lately due to a trapped nerve in my leg, and I felt like a child off to meet Father Christmas as I walked through London, heading towards Queen Mary’s University, and my first major gathering of romance writers.

Train coffee

With a schedule that was so packed with great talks and workshops, it was a challenge to choose which to attend. I may have been in the writing game for nearly 11 years, but I still have a great deal to learn, and this was the place to do it. With names as eminent as Katie Fforde, Julie Cohen and Jean Fullerton on the schedule, how could I fail not to come away with my head packed to the gunnels with ideas, inspiration- but most of all – hope.

Writing is a weird profession. You sit alone most of the time, trapped in your imagination and a world of ‘what if’s’ which you have invented. Even if other people are nearby, you are alone inside your own head so it is vital that we all get together sometimes, just to remind ourselves that we aren’t the only ones struggling to be noticed. To know that even the big names, working hour after hour in the hope that someone will buy their work when there are so many wonderful books to chose from, struggle sometimes.

We need to get together to learn, to laugh, to moan, discuss, let off steam, and give each other a boost- to say ‘you will make it’, ‘the next level is possible,’ and to hear that even the best writer’s in the world have downward lulls and bad sales now and then.

So although the classes were all excellent, what I will most remember from this years conference- and indeed- what was most useful to me- was the friendly sense of camaraderie. To see authors in the flesh after years of only communicating via Facebook was wonderful.

The amazing Hazel Cushion, manager of Accent Press, arranged a Pimms party for all the Accent authors, and anyone else who wanted to come along. Boy, can Hazel organise a good party. Standing in the sunshine by the canal that runs behind the university, I sipped my explosive cocktail while chatting to authors Richard Gould, Gilli Allan, Alison Rose, Lizzie Lane, Gill Stewart, Kat Black, Zoe Chamberlain and Kd Grace, along with the fabulous Rebecca Lloyd, ‘chief’ editor at Accent, her side kick, Cat Camacho, and many more smashing folk.


Hazel Cushion

Katrina Power, Cat Camacho and Alison Rose

Katrina Power, Cat Camacho and Alison Rose get the ice ready for the Pimms

It was at the party that one of my personal conference highlights occurred. The adorable Alison Rose introduced me to one of my writing heroes. I have long admired Katie Fforde for her books, and for the help she frequently gives other authors. And there she was, only a few feet from me. I have to admit, I had a tiny internal fan girl moment, which I seriously hope I swallowed down.  Not only was Katie lovely to me, she had actually heard of me!! I floated on a cloud for a while after that I can tell you.

The conference was huge, and there were so many people it was impossible to meet everyone I would have liked to spend time with, but everyone I did meet was friendly, helpful and encouraging. At a time in my writing career where so many options are possible- if I am brave enough to take the scary steps towards them- then it was just perfect to have so much helpful advice and a much needed injection of hope, and the oft spoken words ‘Hang in there’ ringing in my ears.

Here are a few photos of us mad writer types as we reveal in the joy that is being with other writers.


Gilli Allan and Kd Grace take a coffee break

Gilli Allan and Kd Grace take a coffee break

Books for sale

Books for sale

Alison Rose

Gala Dinner in the Octagon Library

Gala Dinner in the Octagon Library

Richard Gould and Lizzie Lane

Richard Gould and Lizzie Lane

My thanks to Eileen Ramsey, Jan Jones, Kate Thomson, and everyone else who organised such an amazing event. If you are interested in joining the RNA, or you want to attend next years conference (which will be in Lancaster), then you can find all the details here-

Happy reading,

Jenny x




Guest Post from Georgina Troy: The Graduate

I have another wonderful guest visiting my site today. Please welcome Georgina Troy, an amazing writer, and graduate of the New Writer’s Scheme.

Over to you Georgina…

Georgina Troy - Author Pic

Thank you very much for inviting me to your blog today.

I’ve been a member of the Romantic Novelists’ Association New Writers’ Scheme for a few years and as well as the support I received from more experienced authors, being a member of the New Writers’ Scheme means that each year I could submit a manuscript for a detailed report. These reports were invaluable, they helped me see how I could improve my manuscript and taught me lessons that I continue to use. I believe it was thanks to suggestions from my Reader – always anonymous – and other authors who I met through the Romantic Novelists’ Association that I felt encouraged enough to initially self-publish A Jersey Kiss. This book is a romance set in Jersey about love, loss, refusing to give in, and a mysterious legacy.

Last August I realised a dream to be traditionally published when I signed with Accent Press for the first four books in my Jersey Scene series. It also meant that I graduated from the New Writers’ Scheme to become a full member of the Romantic Novelists’ Association, another dream realised.

A Jersey Affair by Georgina Troy

The second book in the series, A Jersey Affair, will be published by Accent Press soon and earlier this month I delivered, A Jersey Dreamboat, the third book in the series to my wonderful editor. I’m now working on book four.

The blurb:

People say that it’s hard not to fall in love living in the ‘Sunny Isle’ of Jersey, but for Bea Philips, still reeling from a divorce and the loss of her beloved godmother, she’s not sure she can find the time. Between her soon-to-be-ex-husband trying to take away the home she grew up in, surly but attractive builder Luke renovating the house, and her old flame Tom re-appearing at work, she’s worn out!

Is life going to give Bea a break for once…and maybe let her fall in love?

A-Jersey-Kiss-800 (2)

Amazon Link:






Bio: Georgina Troy believes her love of writing was influenced by Father Christmas giving her a typewriter when she was seven. It probably wasn’t the present she was hoping for at the time, but on reflection, maybe it helped focus her imagination while giving her parents a break from her constant chatter. She bases her Jersey Scene series on the island where she lives and when she isn’t daydreaming about gorgeous men or plotlines while walking on one of the many beaches, she’s working on her next book.


Many thanks for dropping by today Georgina,

Happy reading everyone,

Jenny xx


Tiny Acts of Bravery…

If you follow the ‘other’ me, then you’ll know that I am trying hard to be just that little bit braver this year. To stick the occasional toe outside of my comfort zone and do things I’m generally too nervous or shy to do.

This week, (and this is going to sound very feeble) for the first time ever I drove all on my own from my home to where my parents live. (I told you it would sound feeble!). Although I have done the journey a hundred times, I have always been firmly sat in the passenger seat, and I felt an almost ridiculous amount of pride in myself for making it all that way in my tiny little car. (Singing the whole way-out of tune- at the top of my voice!)

So why was I on this mid-week road trip?

RNA logo

On Wednesday evening I went to my very first Romantic Novelists Association meeting!!

As a writer I obviously spend a great deal of time on my own, and am very comfortable in my own company. I love spending time with friends, but I do get quite nervous when I meet new people.

Although I was really looking forward to my very first outing as Jenny Kane, as I got ready to head to a pub in gorgeous village of Lacock in Wiltshire, to meet fellow writers Rachel Brimble, Jane Lark, Nicola Cornick, and many others… I was experiencing more than a few butterflies in my stomach.


Of course I need not have worried at all- what a wonderful group of folk!!

Welcoming and kind, we were all soon chatting writing, and confirming my long held belief that writers really do need writers. Only fellow addicts of wordage really “get” all our strange little hang ups, our inbuilt paranoia, and our “do we market too much or not enough” worries. It is always a relief to know I’m not the only lunatic in the asylum!

I’d like to extend a huge thank you to Rachel Brimble for allowing me to come along and join in the fun.

Now it’s back to the writing- and planning my next mini adventure of course…

Happy reading,

Jenny xx


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