Showing posts with label Elin Gregory. Show all posts

Feature Friday - Elin Gregory - Writing Historicals


My guest for Feature Friday this week is the wonderful Elin Gregory, here to talk about the pitfalls of writing historicals, welcome Elin...

One of the great joys, and great hazards, of writing historical fiction is the amount of research that needs to be done. There are very few people who are so steeped in the culture, primary sources and archaeological records of their chosen period that they don't need to fact check. Mary Beard is probably a safe bet for Roman stuff but I bet even she has to refresh her memory from time to time. And I'm just a museum worker with about enough knowledge of the 3000 years or so of the history our collection comprises to give out handy little soundbites, entertaining but not too heavy. When I embark on a new project it means some serious reading and note taking.

I do know writers who use their overall impression of the period to write their first draft and then check the fine detail to flesh out the second draft but you can get badly caught out by that. Part of the plot of Eleventh Hour, set in London in 1928, rests upon a chance encounter on a trolley bus. I adored them when I was a child – the ting of the bell, the showers of sparks as the boom that carried the electrical current bounced across from wire to wire – and my mother, born in 1925 was certain that they predated her.

Photo from Manchester Daily Express 1962
I checked, of course, even found an image of trolley bus designs dated 1928 – I thought. But once the book had been released into the wild, so to speak, I was looking up something else and discovered that the '1928' referred to the model number and the **&^% things hadn't gone actually gone into service till 1929 – about 3 months too late! If only I'd used the word "tram", dammit! Internet searches and asking ones mum are all fine and dandy but sometimes you need books – expensive glossy specialist books.

There's nothing quite as satisfying as going book shopping with the knowledge that, if necessary [and assuming you get any royalties] you can write the shopping spree off against tax. Books tend to go into subjects in more depth and also are peer reviewed, which can get absolutely vicious. They may vary in interpretation of the facts but the facts and supporting material are usually kosher. But even so there are times when you come across things for which there's really no excuse.

Some years ago I decided to take another swipe at a long project based on Y Gododdin, a 9th century Welsh poem describing a series of battles in Dark Ages Northumberland and Yorkshire. Amongst the Dark Ages history titles I picked up was The Holy Kingdom by Adrian Gilbert. This was published by Bantam books – a subsidiary of Transworld publishers so not a hole in the corner outfit. I was leafing through the photos in the middle and well…


You know that feeling you get when someone tries to tell you you’re looking at a unicorn but somehow you can't quite believe it?

Well it’s worse when you’re looking at a painting you know very well, by an artist you admire and the painting is completely uncredited! This is art piracy and a Really Bad Thing!

This is the picture, though in the book it is cropped to the left and has no attribution.


It was painted by Ron Embleton – beloved to people of my generation for his illustrations in Look and Learn, the end titles for the Captain Scarlet cartoon series, and his raunchy cartoon strip Wicked Wanda – but he was also very well known as a historical illustrator. The painting was commissioned by the National Museum of Wales and shows an upper Paleolithic interment on the Gower coastline, wrongly described as the Red Lady of Paviland [it’s a bloke]. At approximately 33,000 years old it is the oldest ritual burial to be found in Western Europe. The body was covered with a thick coating of red ochre, possibly as a deterrent to scavengers. In the Holy Kingdom the image is described as being a depiction of the burial of King Arthur and there's so much wrong with that I just don't know where to start!

Art piracy is as egregious as book piracy. Five minutes with Google reverse image search can usually give you an attribution that, even if it's not 100% correct at least makes it look like you've TRIED! But far worse than that, Holy Kingdom was advertised as a work of reference and now there is a whole bunch of would be Arthurian scholars who probably think that Arthur fought the Saxons dressed in a parka and mukluks.

So books – yeah, but they have to be the RIGHT books.

All of which is trying to say – I suppose – that authors of historical works do their best to get things right with the resources at their disposal but sometimes we just get it wrong. If I do another edition of Eleventh Hour, it'll say 'tram' dammit!

Logo by Catherine Dair
Elin Gregory lives in South Wales and has been making stuff up since she learned to talk. Writing has always had to take second place to work and family but, slowly, she is finishing the many novels on her hard drive and actually trying to do something useful with them.

Historical subjects predominate. She has written about ancient Greek sculptors, 18th century seafarers but also about modern men who change shape at will and how echoes of the past can be heard in the present. Heroes tend to be hard as nails but capable of tenderness when circumstances allow.

There are always new works on the go and she is currently writing more 1930s spies, adding to a series of contemporary romances and doing background reading for stories set in Roman Britain and in WW2.

Website: www.elingregory.com Blog: http://elingregory.wordpress.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/elin.gregory

Buy Links: Amazon US | Amazon UK

Borrowed from the Secret Intelligence Service cipher department to assist Briers Allerdale – a field agent returning to 1920s London with news of a dangerous anarchist plot – Miles Siward moves into a ‘couples only’ boarding house, posing as Allerdale’s ‘wife’. Miles relishes the opportunity to allow his alter ego, Millie, to spread her wings but if Miles wants the other agent’s respect he can never betray how much he enjoys being Millie nor how attractive he finds Allerdale.

Pursuing a ruthless enemy who wants to throw Europe back into the horrors of the Great War, Briers and Miles are helped and hindered by nosy landladies, Water Board officials, suave gentlemen representing foreign powers and their own increasing attraction to each other.

Will they catch their quarry? Will they find love? Could they hope for both?

The clock is ticking. 

Buy Links: Amazon US | Amazon UK

Malcolm Bright, brand new museum curator in a small Welsh Border town, is a little lonely until – acting as emergency archaeological consultant on a new housing development – he crosses the path of Rob Escley, aka Dirty Rob, who makes Mal’s earth move in more ways than one.

Then Rob discovers something wonderful, and together they must combat greedy developers and a treasure hunter determined to get his hands on the find. Are desperate measures justified to save the bones of our fathers? Will Dirty Rob live up to his reputation? Do museum curators really do it meticulously?

Answers must be found for the sake of Mal’s future, his happiness and his heart.

Hump Day Interview - Elin Gregory


Today's Hump Day Interview is the lovely Elin Gregory, welcome Elin...


Thank you so much for inviting me to contribute to your Humpday interviews, especially so close to one of my infrequent releases! Also thanks for the interesting question set. :)

What is the most difficult part of your artistic process? 








“Artistic process” sounds a bit grand for what I do. First of all I get the inkling of an idea and mull it over for a year or two. Then some scene will pop into my head that sets the tone for the whole thing. Other scenes follow until I have them settled like a beads strung on a thread of narrative. But the thread is flimsy and easily altered. At this point the whole story is in my head. Then the hard part – actually making the time to write. It often comes down to choosing between sleeping and cranking out poorly spelled, inconsidered words a few hundred at a time. Eventually the story is finished and then comes the other really difficult part – acknowledging that it’s pants and needs to be rewritten adding a bit of this and a LOAD more of that. Once I’ve got the first draft done I can usually see the story through to a point where I can at least offer it to beta readers but there are times when I get bogged down in the soggy middle and give up in despair.

How many unpublished and half-finished books do you have?

Masses, both on paper and on my hard drive. Some will, I hope, never see the light of day, but there are others that have a sound core and could be redrafted into decent reads.

· There’s part of a Regency historical, an attempt at m/f romance that I abandoned in 1990 when I realised the male protagonist was paying more attention to the heroine’s brother [I had NO idea that there might be people other than me interested in reading such things].

· There’s 350k words of contemporary paranormal romance, co-written with a friend, about an ancient vampire, a very troubled vampire hunter and the last months before the US borders were closed to all paranormal entities. Just for fun it was set in Key West, a place neither of us had ever been. It also sparked off an ‘origin’ story set in Ukraine.

· Neither of us had ever been to the area between Whitefish, Montana, and the Glacier National Park where we set a werewolf adventure – we managed 95k words of that.

· Then we wrote 95k words of medieval/Renaissance fantasy about jousting, travelling players and Florentian banking houses.

· I have 70k words of a story set in the Hen Gogledd – the Old North – in the early 7th century CE when Welsh was still being spoken on the Scottish borders and the King in Edinburgh made an ill-advised attempt to drive back the Saxons. Just think of “300” only with horses and more clothing. I’m determined to finish that one.

· The sequel to Eleventh Hour is at about 7 thousand words and I have three more Pemberland stories partly written to follow up The Bones of Our Fathers.

· I also have many scraps and scenes where I’ve tried out characters to see if they have a voice. One of those will be appearing in Manifold Press’s Call To Arms anthology of World War 2 stories and features Sam Hobb, a character I’ve had around for a while. I like Sam and hope his story will be written because, amongst others, it will feature Peter Fleming, Ian Fleming’s big bro’.

What are the ethics of writing about historical figures?

I think a lot depends on how well known they are and in how much affection they are held by potential readers. For instance, Peter Fleming is barely known at all outside of the UK and only a little by people who aren’t interested in travel writers of the 1930s [of the two Fleming boys, Peter was the great author at this time] or WW2 defence measures. As long as I stick fairly closely to the time line of WW2 I can probably get away with quite a lot when he appears as a secondary character.

On the other hand are those historical entities who are very well known – or who have a mythology that gives the illusion that they are well known. Let’s take “Honest Abe” Lincoln as an example.


There has been some speculation that Lincoln may have been gay or bisexual. In scholarly circles this has been greeted either with hurrumphs of outrage and the argument that, since Lincoln was married and had children, he couldn’t possibly have been, or with enthusiasm and a mining of Lincolniana for possible evidence. I don’t know enough about the man to come to a definite conclusion but I think we all know, or know of, people who married because ‘that’s what one did’ and how much more imperative that would be if one wanted to run for office? So, I think one could get away with writing an angst-ridden historical about Abraham Lincoln’s struggles to balance his reputation for utmost honesty with his secret bisexuality but one probably couldn’t get away with making him a wife beater. One can believe the great man might have a huge secret that could destroy him if it was discovered, and that his lovers cared enough for him to keep his secret, but smacking Mary around out of frustrated misogyny? No, that wouldn’t work at all.

What is your favourite childhood book?

My favourite childhood book has remained one of my favourites. It concerns a young man of the artisan class who abandons his work to go for a walk and meets an affable gentleman of independent means with an enthralling hobby. Seduced, the young man moves in with the gentleman and is introduced to a whole new world. There are picnics and visits to crusty old scholars and a nice but dim, enthusiastic aristocrat desperate to keep up with all the latest fads. They suffer loss and heartbreak together, come to the aid of their friends, endure spiritual crises, and finally achieve a blissful peace in each other’s company. *clutches heart*


I’m talking of course about The Wind in the Willows. Ratty/Moley OTP. The book also has moments that make me snivel. Ratty’s encounter with the Seafaring Rat, a matelot with a roving eye who nearly wrecks Rat and Moley’s idyll and leaves Rat grieving for something he can never, and should never, have and Moley’s sudden catastrophic bout of homesickness that almost wrecks Christmas, are points where one weeps out of fellow feeling. But the chapter that wrecks me every time is The Piper At the Gates of Dawn, where Otter’s child goes missing, Ratty and Mole join the search party and have an encounter on a midsummer morning that – well you need to read it. I sob, ugly snotty sobs, but happy ones. It’s fantastic.

What are you reading right now and what is next on your to-be-read list?

Right now I’m jonesing to read The Wind in the Willows again, but I have books to read for beta, and a few ARCs. I’m reading books about 1930s politics to add detail to the Eleventh Hour sequel[s], I’ve got a fantastic book called 1421 on my nightstand, about the first circumnavigation of the world and the colonisation of America by the Chinese LONG before Christopher Columbus. 

However, in the genre, I’ve recently downloaded the Sanguine books by Lou Harper and am looking forward to trying those and I’m working my way through the Portkennack books from Riptide. Spectred Isle – Oh God I love that title SO much – by K J Charles is probably the book I’m most looking forward to. Only a week to wait now!



For your chance to win an ebook of Elin's latest release, The Bones of Our Fathers answer the question...What is your favourite childhood book? 

The Bones of Our Fathers 

Buy Links: Amazon US | Amazon UK

Malcolm Bright, brand new museum curator in a small Welsh Border town, is a little lonely until – acting as emergency archaeological consultant on a new housing development – he crosses the path of Rob Escley, aka Dirty Rob, who makes Mal’s earth move in more ways than one.

Then Rob discovers something wonderful, and together they must combat greedy developers and a treasure hunter determined to get his hands on the find. Are desperate measures justified to save the bones of our fathers? Will Dirty Rob live up to his reputation? Do museum curators really do it meticulously?

Answers must be found for the sake of Mal’s future, his happiness and his heart.



About Elin

Elin Gregory lives in South Wales and works in a museum in a castle built on the edge of a Roman fort! She reckons that’s a pretty cool job.

Elin usually writes on historical subjects, and enjoys weaving the weird and wonderful facts she comes across in her research into her plots. She likes her heroes hard as nails but capable of tenderness when circumstances allow. Often they are in danger, frequently they have to make hard choices, but happy endings are always assured.

Current works in progress include one set during the Great War, another in WW2, one set in the Dark Ages and a series of contemporary romances set in a small town on the Welsh border.

www.elingregory.com | https://www.facebook.com/elin.gregory
https://twitter.com/ElinGregory | http://elingregory.wordpress.com


Valentines Short (Eleventh Hour) - Elin Gregory


An excerpt from a short story featuring characters from Eleventh Hour.

Early February and things were pretty much dead on the espionage front. It was bitterly cold and snow was piled in the streets of Belgrade, just the time to steal the march on one's opponents, one would have thought, but the reports that came in from outlying agents were sadly lacking in action. Briers Allerdale could only assume that his various opponents were doing what he was doing – following orders to sit in an office pretending to work and be bored out of their minds. He had even sunk so low as to tackle the filing.

"God, what I wouldn't give for a nice juicy assassination attempt,” he muttered as he slammed the filing cabinet. He shuffled over to the fireplace and made more fuss than necessary over adding a few lumps of coal to the already blazing hearth.

"You'll set the chimney on fire." Basset muttered. He was rocking in his chair, balanced on the two back legs of it, and had given up all pretence of looking busy in favour of making paper aeroplanes. "But then we'd be warm and have something exciting to do, so go ahead." He launched his missile and missed the waste paper basket by inches. Briers picked it up and threw it back.

The phone rang and they both lunged for it, Basset beating Briers by a short head.

"Hello, International Trade and Exchange," Basset said. "Oh - right. Allerdale, it's for you."

"Hah!" Briers grabbed the handset from him. "Yes, what?"

"Politeness doesn't cost anything, you know." The bureau chief sounded harrassed. "We just heard that Carmouche of Fabrique Besson is making another of his little trips, and your name is next on the list to shadow him. We just want him watched. If possible, we’d like to know to whom he’s passing information. In our dreams we’d like to know what he’s passing but appreciate that may not be possible. I'm sending the file down with a runner."

"Fabrique Besson, eh?" On the face of it, a French company providing parts for agricultural machines, but so much more than that behind the scenes. Briers looked at the clock. "Have I got time to go home and pack?"

"No rush. You have a week. He's booked on the Paris express on the 12th February, returning on the 15th. We need you in situ on the 11th to familiarise yourself with his route. A creature of habit, Carmouche. Someone will meet you with his itinerary."

"Time to get up to date with his file, then." Working on the principle that if you don't ask you don't get, Briers added, "Bearing in mind it’s comparatively close to home, and if I feel it might be helpful, could I call in some back up? The right resources could make all the difference.”

There was a short thoughtful silence though Briers would have bet that the section chief wasn't thinking what Biers was thinking. “Depends on what they are. All right, within reason. You’ll be on expenses, but don’t go crazy. Do you have contacts?”

“I certainly do." Briers grinned at Basset. "My kind of assignment. Paris just in time for Valentine's Day!”

The word Basset mouthed at him wasn’t normally one heard in polite company

"I'd remind you, Allerdale, that you are not going there to pick up young ladies in Montmartre."

"Oh I wouldn't dream of it sir! The culture, the art! All those museums!"

"Yes, quite. Send Bassett up, will you? I need a fourth for bridge and I don't trust your luck."

Ignoring the insult­­—cheating was part of his profession, after all—Briers put the phone down and passed on the message to Basset. He had to raise his voice considerably to be heard over Basset’s complaints that he was the jammiest of jammy bastards.

"Good luck with that," Basset continued as he got out of his chair. "Carmouche’s own people have about given up on him. They know he's passing on intelligence but have no idea how he's doing it. And he goes to the best places. All I can say is—make the most of it."

"Oh, Bassett." Briers grinned and reached for a telegram form. "You have no idea how much I intend to.”

~

On the evening of February 11th, Briers arrived at the Gare du Nord just in time to watch the Fleche D’Or roll into the station. He hung back a little, hat in hand, as the disembarking passengers milled and called and requisitioned porters, knowing that his ‘resource’ wouldn’t want to risk being buffeted in the crush. Once the platform began to clear, he moved in with a smile and was in exactly the right position to meet an exquisitely dressed young woman stepping down from the carriage. Briers was vaguely aware of her burgundy wool coat lavishly trimmed with black beaver lamb and the neat little matching hat, but his attention was on the way her eyes lit up on seeing him.

“Millie, darling.” He took both neatly gloved hands in his and drew her close before stooping to meet her lips.

Fourteen months ago he had embarked on a dangerous assignment in the depths of London, and had deeply resented being lumbered with an inexperienced partner. But he had learned, fast, that there was more to this “young lady” than met the eye. Not least a very attractive and well-proportioned cock. Since then they had corresponded frequently and met as often as they could, which wasn’t often. Last August they had managed a week together in a chalet not far from Chamonix – a walking holiday Briers had told his masters. When he got back to the office, reeling with exhaustion, they weren’t to know that he hadn’t put a pair of boots on all week. Just the thought of it made Briers groan and tilt his head to get a better taste of her mouth and he smiled as the hands that had slipped inside his overcoat took a possessive but concealed grip on his arse.

A porter cleared his throat and they both laughed and, still in each other’s arms, they stepped out of the man’s way so he could lift the luggage down.

“And just in time for dinner too,” Briers said by way of greeting. “But the restaurant booking I made probably isn’t nearly good enough for that hat. May I say you look stunning?”

“Of course you may,” Miles Siward replied, rouged lips parting in a merry grin. “So do you. I read a copy of the file on Carmouche. Do you plan to fill me in on the rest over dinner?”

“Given the opportunity, I’d fill you in right now over that luggage trolley,” Briers said, sincerely, “but I think it had better wait until we’re back at the hotel."

~

Despite the advice not to go crazy with expenses, Briers had opted for something a bit special in the accommodation line. Something central, something close to Carmouche’s known hangouts, something very classy indeed with the luxury of a private bathroom.

The furniture was top notch too, both attractive and robust. The bed, for instance, was a wonder of Louis Quinze gilded woodwork yet it was vastly improved by the slender body arched across it. Miles’ teeth dented his lower lip and he threw his arms wide, fists clenching in the sheets. As was Miles’ habit, he had discarded Millie the moment they had locked the door. Briers had contained his impatience while Miles put aside the lovely clothing, wiped the makeup from his face and returned to himself, because he knew how much it meant to Miles to meet him man to man. But that hadn’t meant it was easy and he didn’t give Miles a chance to say a single word before flipping him onto the mattress and swallowing his cock. Miles had let out a delighted whoop and had buried his hands in Briers hair, but since then had been reduced to almost incoherent babbling. Briers had brought him to the brink twice and planned to see if he could do it again.

He pressed a kiss to Miles' belly and said, "Come on, lad. You need to keep your wits under all circumstances. What next?"

"You bastard." Miles' whimper sounded more ecstatic than annoyed. "Carmouche – um, OH mmmm – where was I? Oh yes, he's nearly 50, thick set, dark hair, ba – ah – balding, bit of a bon vivant. Oh, I'm going to get my own back later. You'll be sorry."

"That's the way." Briers grinned, hand moving lazily. "You saw photos?"

"Poorly framed, blurry photos, yes. I'll recognise him. Briers – please. I've missed you so much and now you’re …” Miles voice quivered into silence. He sniffed and was that a tear? Briers moved further up the bed to get a better look. It was. The pretty blue eyes were awash, the plump pink lower lip quivering, forming a picture of utter anguish that struck Briers right in the heart.

Briers grinned. “You manipulative little sod.”

Miles bit his lip again and peeped at Briers through wet lashes. Another tear gathered, rolled and dripped off his earlobe.

“Oh that’s nice.” Briers nodded. “Very nice. Can you do that whenever you want?”

“Yes, I can. I’ve been practising. Pritchard was so worried the first time I tried it that he called his friend Ron over. He was completely fooled but Ron says my sniffs are insincere and need more work.”

“I approve. Another big gun in Millie’s arsenal.” Briers kissed the tears away then settled firmly in the cradle of Miles’ arms and legs. “Back to Carmouche.”

“You’re a hard taskmaster, Allerdale.” Miles raised his head to demand a kiss, which Briers happily provided, then flopped back down with a thoughtful frown. “Should I try to vamp him? I could pick him up and that would give me a cast iron reason to be at his side all the time.”

“No.” The word popped out with more force than Briers intended and he scowled at Miles’ knowing grin.

“All right I won’t. Incidentally, you do know that I love it when you get all possessive and bossy, don’t you?”

“I know.” Briers nodded to his trousers, discarded and picking up fluff on the carpet. “I’ve got his itinerary in my pocket. We can lay in wait at one of his usual haunts, have a nice dinner, apparently he enjoys his food, and casually tag along from there.”

“I see. You’ve got it all planned, then.” Miles ran his hands down Briers spine. “So what, exactly, has the past twenty minutes been all about?”

“On the job training?” Briers suggested. The hands had reached his arse and gave him a sharp squeeze, which was a hint if Briers had ever felt one. As his hips jerked down, Miles hooked a heel round the back of Briers’ thigh to keep him in place. “But I think we’ve done for now.”

~

To be continued

For your chance to win a backlist ebook from Elin please leave a comment below.


Buy Links: Amazon US | Amazon UK 

The Book

Borrowed from the Secret Intelligence Service cipher department to assist Briers Allerdale – a field agent returning to 1920s London with news of a dangerous anarchist plot – Miles Siward moves into a ‘couples only’ boarding house, posing as Allerdale’s ‘wife’. Miles relishes the opportunity to allow his alter ego, Millie, to spread her wings but if Miles wants the other agent’s respect he can never betray how much he enjoys being Millie nor how attractive he finds Allerdale.

Pursuing a ruthless enemy who wants to throw Europe back into the horrors of the Great War, Briers and Miles are helped and hindered by nosy landladies, Water Board officials, suave gentlemen representing foreign powers and their own increasing attraction to each other.

Will they catch their quarry? Will they find love? Could they hope for both?

The clock is ticking.

Eleventh Hour was a Runner Up in the 2016 Rainbow Awards in the categories for Gay Historical Romance and Best Gay book.

Author Bio

Elin Gregory lives in South Wales and works in a museum in a castle built on the edge of a Roman fort! She reckons that’s a pretty cool job.

Elin usually writes on historical subjects, and enjoys weaving the weird and wonderful facts she comes across in her research into her plots. She likes her heroes hard as nails but capable of tenderness when circumstances allow. Often they are in danger, frequently they have to make hard choices, but happy endings are always assured.

Current works in progress include one set during the Great War, another in WW2, one set in the Dark Ages and a series of contemporary romances set in a small town on the Welsh border.

www.elingregory.com | https://www.facebook.com/elin.gregory
Twitter: @ElinGregory | http://elingregory.wordpress.com


Eleventh Hour - Elin Gregory - Recommended

Borrowed from the Secret Intelligence Service cipher department to assist Briers Allerdale - a field agent returning to 1920s London with news of a dangerous anarchist plot - Miles Siward moves into a 'couples only' boarding house, posing as Allerdale’s 'wife'. Miles relishes the opportunity to allow his alter ego, Millie, to spread her wings but if Miles wants the other agent’s respect he can never betray how much he enjoys being Millie nor how attractive he finds Allerdale.

Pursuing a ruthless enemy who wants to throw Europe back into the horrors of the Great War, Briers and Miles are helped and hindered by nosy landladies, water board officials, suave gentlemen representing foreign powers and their own increasing attraction to each other.

Will they catch their quarry? Will they find love? Could they hope for both?

The clock is ticking.

Review


"A beautifully written romance between Briers and Miles, undercover British agents in the 1920’s. Set against the backdrop of London the detail of character, place, and time, are enthralling. I couldn’t stop reading this. Recommended."

Buy Link

Amazon




Twelve Days of Christmas, Day 5 - Elin Gregory

Today's visiting author is the awesomely talented Elin Gregory.

She is offering a $10 Gift Card as a giveaway. Leave a comment here to enter the giveaway, which will close 22nd December at 6pm, GMT.




Question 1.       What is your favourite Christmas movie? 

The Great Escape. Yeah, I know it’s not actually a Christmas movie but it’s always on and I always make the effort to watch it. It’s fantastic
Question 2.       What is your best Christmas memory? 

Coming back from church on a crackling cold midnight with every star blazing and the feeling that I was treading a path trodden for over a thousand years. That’s a lot of good will.
Question 3.       What is the best present you’ve received? 

A few years back my family clubbed together to track down and buy and extremely obscure book about the excavations at Olbia, a Greek colonial city in what is now the Ukraine. I was astonished and touched that they had gone to so much trouble.
Question 4. What is the best present you’ve given? 

One year my husband and I built an old fashioned rocking horse, complete with beautiful glass eyes, mane and tail and proper harness and constructed a big cardboard box to hide it. On Christmas Day the box was a HUGE success. The kids played with it for months.
Question 5.       Santa Claus – real or fake? 

Are we speaking historically or mythologically?
Question 6.       What is your favourite Christmas book? 

A Christmas Carol. All the others stem from it whether by emulating it or by consciously rejecting it. Also it’s good fun.
Question 7.  Do you like eggnog? 

What is eggnog? I see references to it all the time around Christmas but I’ve never seen it. It doesn’t sound at all appetising.
Question 8.       What do you eat at Christmas? 

Whatever I can be bothered to cook. I don’t like the traditional Christmas dinner, but we’re stuck with it on Christmas Day. However I do enjoy being creative with the leftovers. Bubble and Squeak on boxing Day is an absolute must.
Question 9.       Be honest, when do you put up the Christmas tree? 

Himself won’t have the tree in the house before Xmas Eve. A family tradition.
Question 10.       When do you open your presents? 

Before lunch on Christmas Day. I go and fetch my mother while himself puts the spuds in, give her a sherry and once she’s settled we start. 
Question 11. Do you have snow at Christmas? 

No, never. A bit on the ground occasionally, frost and sleet, but nothing like the Christmas cards. I think the expectation might come from the swap from the Julian to the Gregorian calendar in 1752 where we lost 11 days. There is often snow during the first week of January so maybe the memory of snowy 18th century Christmases put the idea into the minds of the Victorian writers who invented Christmas.
Question 12.       What is the best – all-time – Christmas song. Ever!  

Jona Lewie’s “Stop The Cavalry”. It never fails to make me gulp as I contemplate all those people who serving overseas, or having to work away from home, or who once had a happy home that they have lost, will be spending this Christmas holiday alone.  https://youtu.be/2HkJHApgKqw Alternatively I like Don’t Let the Bells End by The Darkness because I dearly love a countertenor. https://youtu.be/VQhuoY5h2kE

Love Romances Cafe Awards 2014

Congratulations to three of our Love Lane Authors who were mentioned in the Love Romances Cafe Awards.

Best Book of 2014


Runner up: The Last Wolf by Sue Brown (Love Lane Books)




Best Fantasy Book

Honorable Mention: Catching Kit by Kay Berrisford (Love Lane Books)



Best M/M Book

Honorable Mention: A Taste of Copper by Elin Gregory (Love Lane Books)










LR Cafe awards of 2014 - Love Lane Nominees & RJ Scott

I'm so proud of the Love Lane authorsBest of 2014 Award Nominees for RJ Scott and the authors at Love Lane at the LR Cafe awards of 2014

LAST DAY OF VOTING TODAY

https://groups.yahoo.com/neo/groups/LoveRomancesCafe/polls/open

 

Best Fantasy Book

Catching Kit by Kay Berrisford

 

Best Book of 2014

The Last Wolf by Sue Brown
And Then That Happened by Liam Livings

 

Best Series

Ellery Mountain Series by RJ Scott
Making of a Man Series by Diane Adams

 

Best M/M Book AND Best Historical Book

A Taste of Copper by Elin Gregory