The cover of DEATH OF AN UNSUNG HERO features a British officer with his dog a not uncommon sight in France and Belgium during WW1. As complexes of trenches spread throughout the Western Front the need for well-trained military dogs grew until by 1918 Britain, France, Italy and Belgium had over twenty thousand dogs at the Front. Continue reading
I am delighted to share Chateau Impney as the house on the cover for Lady Montfort and Edith Jackson’s fourth adventure: Death of an Unsung Hero, and the story of how I came to choose it as a stand in for the fictitious Haversham Hall. Continue reading
I have just finished the copyedit for DEATH OF AN UNSUNG HERO – Lady Montfort and Edith Jackson’s fourth adventure together which takes place at home in Blighty in 1916 as the Battle of the Somme raged on for most of that year.
A Little Bit of British ‘Hewmah’ from the Front in 1915
My copy editor (who struggles to Americanize me) queried my use of the word ‘Blighty,’ a term I use quite naturally since I am English, but one that she thought American readers would not understand. I dutifully added context so that readers would understand that when we Brits say Blighty that this is our affectionate term for England. And when we refer to’ a Blighty one ‘(which we now only do as a historical reference) we are talking about a combat wound bad enough for the sufferer to be sent back to England. Soldiers fighting in the trenches of France in WW1 sometimes shot themselves, usually in the foot, so that they could be sent home. Which gives you some idea of how desperate the poor devils must have been. Continue reading
It is a well-known fact that the Edwardian lady did not drink whiskey –or, for some strange reason, other dark colored alcoholic drinks like port, brandy, beer or stout. It was considered unfeminine and ‘low’. Working class women drank gin –poor desparte things. Sloe gin was a cheap and effective way to deaden the drudgery and desperation of poverty, long before the 1900s. Understandably gin was often referred to as mother’s ruin. Continue reading
The Edwardians were not known for their rapier-like wit but they owned a robust sense of humor that left no one in any doubt as to their meaning whether they were enjoying your company or not.
The laconic observations of the novelists P.G. Wodehouse on writing: “I just sit down at my typewriter and curse a bit,” and E.F. Benson on music: “A little Mozart goes a long way, particularly if it is a long way on a wet night,” are delightful examples of the underplayed humor of the early 20th century. And George Bernard Shaw’s vigorous comedy ‘John Bull’s Other Island’ which premiered at the The Royal Court Theatre in 1904 was so relentlessly funny that King Edward VII, a particularly substantial monarch who enjoyed life to the full, laughed so hard he broke his chair. Continue reading
I have taken the tremendous liberty in A DEATH BY ANY OTHER NAME, which releases on March 14, 2017, of including among my quirky characters the redoubtable garden designer Gertrude Jekyll.
Miss Jekyll designed some of the most beautiful gardens in England, Europe and America. She bred a number of herbaceous specimens that we grow in our gardens today, and she was also a writer, and talented water colorist. Her own garden at Munstead Wood featured in many of her water colors. Continue reading
In 1901 when Clementine, Lady Montfort was a young mother with three young children in the nursery it snowed that Christmas Eve as the Talbot family and their servants walked down St. Bartholomew’s church in the village for the evening carol service. Continue reading
Churchill in 1885 in his Hussar’s uniform
“Success consists of going from failure to failure without loss of enthusiasm.” ~ Winston S. Churchill
Winston Spencer Churchill was the son of Lord Randolph Churchill, the third son of John Spencer-Churchill, 7th Duke of Marlborough and Lady Randolph Churchill (née Jennie Jerome) daughter of an American millionaire. As a third grandson of a duke, Winston would inherit no title and very little money. Continue reading
We, that is Clementine, Jackson and I have been nominated for an Agatha award for Best First novel: DEATH OF A DISHONORABLE GENTLEMAN. Sometimes it takes a day or two for good news to sink in and then its like drinking champagne all night without the headache the next morning. A sort of exhausted, nervous euphoria.
If you write I have no need to describe the rocky road we stumbled along to publication of our first book. And although Jackson still likes to look back over the last five years and tell me where I went wrong, obviously we did in the end prevail. It is only necessary to say that if I thought raising three strong minded daughters was a lesson in humility then I still had a lot to learn that rainy October in 2008 when I was cocky enough to think I might write a book. By the end of the winter I had a first draft of 145,000 words and it was then that I thought it a good idea to learn a little bit about plot structure. Continue reading