Special Guest Interview with David Pilling, Author of The Champion (I): Blood and Steel

Available on Amazon UK and Amazon US

1296 AD: the whole of Western Europe trembles on the brink of war. South of the Pyrenees, the Christian and Moorish kingdoms fight and scheme against each for control of Hispania.

I'm pleased to welcome author David Pilling to The Writing Desk:

Tell us about your latest book 

I am currently working on the sequel to my most recent novel, The Champion (I): Blood and Steel. The sequel is titled Blood and Gold and follows the adventures of En Pascal of Valencia, a knight of Aragon struggling to make his way in late 13th century Europe. In the first volume of his memoirs (they are told in the first person), Pascal had barely escaped with his skin intact from Edward I of England's wars in Aquitaine and Flanders. He is now dispatched on a mission to the Holy Roman Empire, before being pitched into the Scottish wars against William Wallace and Robert de Bruce. Pascal is a busy man!

What is your preferred writing routine? 

I prefer to write in the morning, when my mind is fresh, and try to do a second stint in the afternoon. That usually requires a serious caffeine injection. Otherwise I get distracted by social media, Twitter, Facebook etc

What advice do you have for aspiring writers? 

Write about a subject that genuinely inspires and interests you, rather than something you think you ought to be writing. Otherwise you will never sustain the interest in the long term and will find it lonely and difficult work. It is always possible to make compromises, of course.

What have you found to be the best way to raise awareness of your books? 

To be honest the most effective marketing strategy is to produce regular new content. Unless one strikes lucky – it does happen – most writers have to be quite prolific these days to have any chance of making a living from it. The social media aspect helps, of course, but there is an element of 'white noise', with so many authors on the net clamouring for attention.

Tell us something unexpected you discovered during your research 

Oh, all sorts of things. I cannot pick out anything specific, but the level of detail and subtlety in medieval politics is always fascinating. They were full of surprises, you know (often unpleasant ones...)

What was the hardest scene you remember writing? 

None. I'm not the sort of writer who struggles to write of the death of a character or anything like that. The hardest scene is generally the one I have to write at the start of the day, when my brain doesn't want to shift into the work pattern.

What are you planning to write next?

I have several non-fiction projects in mind, possibly co-writing projects focused on wars in medieval Europe and the rise of concepts of 'nationalism'. Nothing concrete as yet though. I find it good to flip between fiction and non-fiction, it keeps things fresh.

David Pilling

# # #

About the Author

David Pilling is a writer and researcher, addicted to history for as long as he can remember. The medieval era has always held a fascination for him, perhaps because he spent much of his childhood exploring the misted ruins of castles in Wales. David also has a keen interest in the Byzantine Empire, the post-Roman period in Britain and the British & Irish Civil Wars. Find out more at David's website https://davidpillingauthor.weebly.com/ and follow him on Facebook and Twitter @RobeH2

Special Guest Post: The Fall of Kings: History vs Myth, by Stuart Rudge -Author of The Fall of Kings

Available from Amazon UK and Amazon US

Castile. 1071AD. Three kings. One crown.

After Sancho II of Castile dispatches his champion Rodrigo Diaz de Vivar to capture his brother, King Garcia of Galicia, he hopes it is a defining moment in his quest to reunite the lands of his father under one banner. 

The Fall of Kings: History vs Myth

Today, I will be looking at the historical sources and those associated with the legendary Cid to define his role in the war between the sons of Fernando. Interpretation varies from source to source, and for a historian, it is important to validate their authenticity to sort out the fact and fiction regarding Spain’s most distinguished hero.

Sancho of Castile and Alfonso of Leon had clung on to an uneasy peace ever since they became kings after the death of their father. By the end of 1071, their younger brother Garcia had already been deposed as king of Galicia. A surviving document names Alfonso as King of Leon and Galicia, and Sancho as King of Castile and Galicia, at the same time, although it would prove difficult for Sancho to rule in Galicia, given that Alfonso’s domain lay directly between the two. 

As several Galician bishops serve as signatories on some of Alfonso’s charters from the end of 1071, it was likely only Alfonso who conquered Galicia, almost doubling the size of his domain in the process. Sancho would not allow Alfonso to sit comfortably on his possessions. The decisive clash came at a place called Golpejera in the Kingdom of Leon, at the beginning of January 1072, which would have made for hellish conditions for a battle. This suggests Sancho wanted to catch Alfonso without additional forces from Asturias and Galicia, as these would have taken some weeks to assemble. In the battle, Sancho defeated Alfonso and became king of Leon, Castile and Galicia.

El Cid, Champion of Castile

Source: https://www.deviantart.com/javieralcalde/art/El-Cid-Campeador-807284727

There has been much debate about the status which the Cid held under Sancho’s tenure as King of Castile, and later of Leon and Galicia. The Carmen Campidoctoris, literally translated as ‘Song of the Campeador’, claims that the Cid was at least the champion of Castile. From the poem comes the extract early in his life, ‘This was his first single combat, when as a young man he defeated the Navarrese champion; for this reason he was called campi doctor.’ Campi docti translates from Latin as ‘master of the field’, but likely in Medieval Spain at the time is similar to ‘armiger’, or arms bearer of the king. 

The Historia Roderici claims that wherever Sancho went and whichever battle he fought, Rodrigo bore the standard of the king, including at Lantadilla and Golpejera. When Sancho conquered Leon, it also claims he ‘rated him so highly…he made him the commander of his whole military following’. Some scholars argue against this, claiming the Cid would have been too young and too inexperienced to hold such a position, but if we are to believe the Cid had been a knight for nearly a decade and carried the king’s standard into battle, a high honour in itself, then why would Sancho not give one of his most distinguished men that honour?

Sancho experienced a troubled rule as king of all three domains, and by October 1072, it came to an abrupt end. In Bishop Pelayo’s Chronicon, he describes how Sancho ‘ruled for six years and was killed by treachery by a soldier named Vellito Ariulfo outside the walls of Zamora which he had besieged.’ The citizens of Zamora had risen in rebellion against their king, and the fact that Zamora was the city under siege suggests Urraca, Sancho and Alfonso’s elder sister, was the one who was the figurehead of the rebels. Urraca had inherited the city on her father’s death, and given that she was a regular signatory of Alfonso’s charters, it is highly likely the infanta still harboured loyalty to him and sought to help wrest control of the crown from Sancho. 

As to the circumstances of Sancho’s death, the most accepted tradition is that Vellito posed as a turncoat and offered to show Sancho a weak spot in the defences, only for him to assassinate the king ‘with a spear… unexpectedly, from behind,’ according to the Silense. The Cid was understandably grief-stricken; the Historia Roderici has him chase Vellito back to Zamora and, in an incident which may or may not have been connected, faced off against fifteen enemy knights, where he killed several and put the rest to flight. But no amount of killing could undo the death of his king. The Castilian army fell apart, and Sancho was laid to rest at the monastery of Oña, as was his wish. Only one man could take Sancho’s place as king.

The Death of Sancho II of Castile

Source: https://www.ileon.com/historia/101946/vellido-dolfos-el-heroe-leones-de-zamora-que-recupero-el-trono-del-gran-alfonso-vi

The final events of the year make for some of the most iconic in the story of the Cid, but also the most controversial. Alfonso made a swift return from Toledo and, once he had secured the thrones of Leon and Galicia, made for Burgos. In the Charlton Heston film, the Cid famously makes Alfonso swear he had no hand in Sancho’s death, even going so far as to slam the king’s hands upon a bible to add to the dramatic effect. This is based on an episode from an untrustworthy thirteenth-century source, most likely taking stock of the bad blood that would arise from the Cid and Alfonso in later years. 

From a historical point of view, it is highly unlikely the Cid would be so brazen as to go through with such an offensive act because to offend the new king so early in his reign would be to invite personal disaster. Some sort of hostility towards the new regime would be expected, but in fact, the Historia Roderici claims ‘King Alfonso received him with honour as his vassal and kept him in his entourage with very respectful affection.’ It was mutually beneficial for Alfonso to keep Sancho’s leading lords close to him, and for those lords, in turn, to submit peacefully to keep their possessions and standing in the kingdom. We even have the Cid’s signature on one of the first charters issued by Alfonso in Castile, further suggesting an amicable transfer of power.

El Cid forces Alfonso’s Oath

Source: https://nobility.org/2011/09/26/el-cids-story-living-legend/

Alfonso was now the sole ruler of a large kingdom, with members of all three districts in his court. Yet Rodrigo’s time in Alfonso would bring mixed fortunes. Whilst Alfonso recognised the champion of Castile’s service to his brother, Rodrigo did not enjoy the level of prestige he experienced in Sancho’s court. Furthermore, conspiracy and jealously would plague his service in the years to come.

Stuart Rudge

# # #

About the Author

Stuart Rudge was born and raised in Middlesbrough, where he still lives. His love of history came from his father and uncle, both avid readers of history. By day, he works down the local dock, playing with shipping containers and trains. Rise of a Champion was the first piece of work he has dared to share with the world. He hopes to establish himself as a household name in the mould of Bernard Cornwell, Giles Kristian, Ben Kane and Matthew Harffy, amongst a host of his favourite writers. Find out more on Stuart's Website: https://stuartrudge.wordpress.com/ and follow him on Facebook and Twitter: @stu_rudge

Guest Post by Mojgan Azard, Author of A Lullaby in the Desert

Available on Amazon UK and Amazon US

A Lullaby in the Desert tells the story of one woman’s unrelenting journey to find freedom. Born in Iran, Susan is forced to flee in order to escape an arranged marriage, leaving her mother 

and everything she has known behind.

What if by questioning injustice and standing up for the oppressed, your words were met with threats, captivity, and execution? Would you still stand up?

Imagine being born without rights. From bicycle bans and compulsory clothing to mandatory beliefs, what’s worse than being born in a society where your gender alone is a crime? Millions of women are held captive, whether behind bars or behind barriers, for what they believe, what they wear, and what they say. They are suffering at this very moment. Some, like Susan, decided they wouldn’t take being held in the grip of a society’s invisible hands any longer. Some, like Susan, decided to stand up despite the possibility of paying with their lives.

A Lullaby in the Desert isn’t just Susan’s story; it’s the chorus of millions of women, their voices carrying forcefully over the empty sands. Their silent melody can be heard from Iran to Syria, from Indonesia to Morocco. Indeed, their voices ring all over the world. Slavery as we read about it in the history books may be fading into the past, but another kind of slavery lives in the present and threatens to persist into the future if we choose to ignore it.

Some use fear as a weapon to keep others down, forcing entire societies into silence. In some countries, those in power would prefer to destroy the identities of millions of innocent people so long as their grip on power remains intact.

What they don’t know is that fear won’t stop someone who has nothing to lose. In A Lullaby in the Desert, Susan finds herself homeless, penniless, and alone in Iraq, a country on the brink of disaster. When standing on the edge of the abyss, Susan stepped forward, just like the other refugees beside her taking this journey to the point of no return. They all had the same goal: freedom.

Freedom is their fundamental right, their dream, their destination. Like the so many others, Susan’s freedom was stolen from her, the shackles thrown over her, covering

her body, pushing her down. For Susan, the forces of evil and slavery could be easily seen in the black flags of the Islamic States of Iraq and al-Sham, who some call ISIS, covering her life in a shadow. However, for millions of women, those dark forces are not so obvious, but they are deadly nonetheless.

Since 2014, ISIS killed and enslaved thousands of women in the Middle East, especially in Syria and Iraq. The world watched as the numbers of the dead ticked by on their televisions, seeing digits instead of faces, not knowing the tragedies those women have faced and continue to face, even at this very moment.

For a long time, I wondered how I could speak for those who could not, for those who had already died, for those who were still enslaved. When the idea first entered my mind, I had to take a step back. Even the thought of telling the world of our plight made me shudder as I remembered my own trauma that began from my earliest days. I remembered the nine-year-old girls sold for fifty dollars in the street to marry strange old men, I remembered a singer assassinated for speaking up about people’s rights, I remembered seeing a woman shot in the head because she wanted to be free. Shame on me if I remained silent.

When I close my eyes I feel no pain because I cannot see anything around me. But my beliefs remain, my story remains. I had to stand in front of my trauma, confront it, release it, because I didn’t choose this life but this is what I know.

When I decided to write Lullaby, one thing pushed me forward: the pain. Pain may stop some, may slow some down, may force some down a different path. For me, I allowed it to open my eyes. Everything I see fills me with responsibility, to women everywhere, even from different places and different backgrounds. I don’t want other humans to suffer what I’ve suffered.

I’ve always believed that we are alive for others. We exist for each other. We can’t survive alone. We all look up at the stars and wish we could be in space, looking down at the earth. However, the moment we were really up there, smothered in cold and dark, we’d realize how alone we felt, and we’d wish to be back among humanity.

Just like those places between the stars, our earth would be frozen and empty, sad and lonely, if people live without regard for those with less than them, those with a different belief, a different gender, a different ability.

Yes, you read that right: it’s our earth. They’ve separated us, they’ve painted us with identities and made us into “us” and “them.” They’ve made some of us human and some of us less than human.

Well I have something to say to “them:” they’ve underestimated women everywhere for far too long. It hurts to be seen as less than someone else, but our world was built on pain and struggle. It was also built on hope. We women have given birth to the leaders, the teachers, the world changers. A Lullaby in the Desert shows that just like Susan, we need to reject the idea of being weak that is imposed on us, and instead be ready to be strong. They should never underestimate us.

Mojgan Azar

"Mojgan carefully weaves a tapestry of so many tragic truths in her novel about Susan's fight to overcome being a woman in the Middle East, being an Iranian in Iraq, and being a human in the shadow of ISIS. Her journey takes us to places that many of us in the West have never heard of, real places full of love, life, and loss." ~ Amazon Reviewer 

Such a compelling, beautifully written tale. Should be read by any and everyone but will particularly resonate with those who want to understand the crisis faced in the middle-east at a more personal level. Heart-renching and captivating I cannot recommend this book enough." ~ Lovely Stories

# # #

About the Author

Mojgan Azard was born in Iran and lived most of her adult life in Iraq. She was living in Iraqi Kurdistan in 2014 when the Islamic State of Iraq and ash-Sham swept through the area, displacing millions and trapping Mojgan in Erbil, the capital of Iraqi Kurdistan. Her harrowing experiences have inspired her writings, and for the first time she is making that story known to the world. Find out more at her website www.azarmojgan.com and find her on Instagram

Special Guest Interview with Angela B Mortimer, Author of Black Ship and The Watchers

Available from Amazon UK and Amazon US

I'm pleased to welcome author Angela Mortimer to The Writing Desk

Tell us about your latest book

It’s called the Blackship and the Watchers. I found in another book I wrote called The Summoning how I might use some of the methods there to solve in a Sci-Fi way my long time quandary - how to save failing Earths in my Flawed Gods series. Because our gods were flawed so were we. It started with this musical piece in my head, Massenet: Thais – Meditation. 

This beautiful, soar the universe, piece of music started in my main character’s mind as he took his life due to illness. Then a series of wonderful people from the past such as a bone-dancer, warriors, philosophers, mystic, nun, and the last two modern, a Kenyan vet who loved the animals on the reserve he worked on, and the final mind a Californian Sci-Fi writer who had to have a job to survive. They then worked in many forms through many eras, back and forth through time trying to enable the positive to survive in the majority. The mysterious Blackship was the enabler.

What is your preferred writing routine?

After I finish the chores, I get about 2-3 hours a day, more if I can. I stop and start as required, the ideas are always ready. It’s much easier now we have various editing software, it’s a slog but worth it.

What advice do you have for new writers?

Make friends on social media. Without a writer on Twitter, like me from UK now in Australia, I’d not know how to start. He kindly helped me through the process. Don’t be pushy, and be friendly and read their books. Some indie books are far better than what publishers prefer to publish nowadays, and not always in your preferred genre. There is much kindness in the writer tribe, ask for advice.

What have you found to be the best way to raise awareness of your books?

Tricky subject, it’s hard to be pushy if you are polite by nature. Advertise other’s work as well as your own and they will do the same. There are sites, which will help and do it for you. Reviews help, although they are not as common as they once were. Review other’s books too; they will be grateful for the time you spent. Another good way, if you are able, is to print books, and ask book shops, and other venues if you can set up and sell that way.

Tell us something unexpected you discovered during your research

Unlike my other books, which I researched, it felt as if the first Flawed Gods series was written without much input from me. I just put my pen down and away it went, very disturbing. However, once I finished I tried to trace what I’d studied in my past to enable it. Nothing obvious came at first it was like the Greek gods with a woman in the top job, until one-day long after I finished it, I found something, which unfortunately seems lately to have become bogged down, in other popular ideas. 

An early goddess Mari (of many names and places) with a snake son, and even more disturbing she wore a necklace of blue stones. I usually keep my research, but I’ve lost the original which was good. Lately this has changed from what I first saw and I need scholarly articles, it is getting harder to find good pieces on line. But it seems to solve what unnerved me at first. No research for such a long story was disturbing, as I love research. Perhaps I found the old goddess years ago and deep down I remembered her?

What was the hardest scene you remember writing?

My favourite character died. As I just put pen or finger down and let it flow, it was unexpected. He was so fascinating - someone else mentioned this, she was captivated too and he wasn’t human. I was heartbroken as if he was real. It was difficult to carry on for a few days – he never completely left.

What are you planning to write next?

I am trying not to, but I have great dreams I wake to, so it is difficult. Something always lurks waiting to escape. I have a folder of all my mainly unfinished written work since aged 6 - the only poem I remember (it was short), and I was so proud of it. I am mainly an artist. Still have useable equipment from art school and before, after all these years. 

I have a few to work on and then I want to finish my loosening, as I only achieved it once, and when I’ve achieved that again - I’d like to go back to the old ways of drawing as I used to. Then do what wasn’t the thing in those days - very detailed pen and inks, use black lines as definition (shock/horror), and hope I don’t get a good idea for another story. I’ve already refused a few headroom. A Sci-Fi short is the most likely - perhaps one a year.

Angela B Mortimer 

# # #

About the Author

Angela Mortimer was born in Lancashire and moved south as a young girl for her father's job. She enjoyed many interests as a child, notably making most things as suggested by Blue Peter and after devouring the home library, dragging books back and forth from the local one. Her father instilled a love of poetry and Shakespeare, and her mother music. Choosing a career was difficult as her interests are diverse. She wrote poetry and had many story ideas from a young age, and studied at the West of England College of Art. She moved to London after meeting her Australian husband and from there onto Australia where she now lives. Find out more at Angela's website and follow her on Twitter @AngelaMortimer2

Historical Fiction Spotlight - Jude & Bliss, By Mal Foster

Available on Amazon UK and Amazon US

In the Victorian era, for many young women, going into domestic service was a significant source of employment where they found suitable work but with extended hours for a reasonable salary, receiving free accommodation as well as enjoying the perks and prestige of working for the aristocracy or other members of the upper or middle-classes.

As a matter of course, employers had a moral obligation, but one without a legal requirement to ensure their servants were kept clean, healthy and well-nourished. However, for one poor girl, that, unfortunately, was not the case.

In 1896, Jude Rogers, a wide-eyed but vulnerable sixteen-year-old from Woking, Surrey, secures a position as a domestic servant at a large terraced house in Half Moon Street, near London's Piccadilly. Following a brief settling-in period, she quickly realises everything is not quite as it seems.

As time moves ruthlessly forward, what happens next is almost beyond comprehension. Jude finds herself in the most impossible of situations and finally succumbs to the pure evil dealt out by her employer.

# # #

About the Author

Mal Foster was born in 1956 in Farnham, Surrey and grew up in nearby Camberley. He was educated at secondary modern level but left school at just fifteen years old to help support his single mother and younger brother. It was around this time that he began writing, and indeed, his first poems were published soon after. In 2007 his most widely read poem The Wedding was published in the Australian Secondary Schools anthology Poetry Unlocked' a book that formed part of its English Literature exam curriculum. The irony of its inclusion has always amused Mal considering he left school before gaining any formal qualifications himself. A former local journalist, his first novel The Asylum Soul, a historical tale of incarceration was published in 2015. A second book, Fly Back and Purify, a paranormal drama appeared in 2017. Described as an explosive conspiracy thriller, An Invisible Nemesis was published at the beginning of May 2019. In November 2020, his fourth novel, Jude & Bliss, was published and marked a return to historical fiction for Mal. "This book is close to my heart, it's the one, I think, which will define the course of my future writing," he told one observer. Find out more at Mel's website and find him on Facebook and Twitter @malfosterwriter

Special Guest Post by Helen Hollick, Author of A Mirror Murder

Available on Amazon UK and Amazon US

Eighteen-year-old library assistant Jan Christopher’s life is to change on a rainy Friday evening in July 1971, when her legal guardian and uncle, DCI Toby Christopher, gives her a lift home after work. Driving the car, is her uncle’s new Detective Constable, Laurie Walker 

– and it is love at first sight for the young couple.

A Mirror Murder is my first cosy mystery – a genre that emulates the lighter police murder mysteries shown on TV, Midsomer Murders and Colombo rather than the more serious Morse or Lewis. I had been thinking about branching out into a different genre for some while, and not wanting to read anything similar to what I usually write (historical Arthurian, Saxon eleventh century or pirate-based nautical adventure) I turned to murder-mystery for my Kindle entertainment. I loved Debbie Young’s Sophie Sayers series in particular, but a couple of other authors did not impress me quite so much. “Could I do better?” I wondered.

I had also wanted to write something where I could use the quite a few years of experience working in a public library in Chingford, a North London suburban town on the edge of Epping Forest and Essex, where I was born and lived until I married in 1981. Believe me, a lot goes on behind the scenes in a library! (Although I don’t recall any murders!) 

In my historical and nautical novels I try to be as accurate as I can where research is concerned – get the facts wrong and an author soon has readers complaining on Amazon. But I found it just as hard to ensure I got things right for 1971 as I do when writing about my Captain Jesamiah Acorne’s adventures in 1719! It’s amazing to recall that, although only fifty years ago, we had no mobile phones, no personal computers, no internet! 

Most houses only had one TV (black and white – colour was only just coming into use) and one telephone, which in our case was a party line shared with a nextdoor neighbour – so calls were far from private! (Ooh! Now there’s a good idea for a murder mystery, a murder overheard!) Our phone was in the hall, near the front door, and I recall sitting on the stairs whispering to my boyfriend and hoping my parents couldn’t hear!

I enjoyed ‘meeting’ my new characters; Jan Christopher, her love interest, DC Laurie Walker, her uncle and guardian DCI Toby Christopher, and her Aunt Madge. I am also looking forward with some great excitement, to discovering what adventures befall Jan and co in future episodes of The Jan Christopher Mysteries. Book Two is already under way A Mystery of Murder.

A VERY BRIEF EXCERPT:

The telephone rang at five-thirty shortly after Uncle Toby had got home. Aunt Madge answered it. I heard her voice from my bedroom upstairs, where I was bashing out the words, on my battered old typewriter, of another chapter for my potential best seller science fiction novel. 

  “Hello? 5785.” A pause. “Jan! It’s for you, dear.”

  I ran down the stairs and took the receiver from her, waited a moment while she wandered back into the kitchen – obviously listening. I heard her whisper something to Uncle Toby. Not for the first time, or last, I wished we had more than one telephone in the house, or that this one wasn’t in such a very public place in the hall. If I wanted to talk privately (which I’d never had any reason to), I would have to use the public telephone box outside the telephone exchange down the road.

  “Hello?” I said tentatively. I rarely received phone calls, not having many friends with any need to contact me.

  My heart sank to my pink, furry, mule slippers as I heard DC Walker’s voice. This was it; he had changed his mind. Was phoning to say our planned evening out was off...

# # #

About the Author

Helen and her family moved from north-east London in January 2013 after finding an eighteenth-century North Devon farmhouse through BBC TV’s popular Escape To The Country show. First accepted for publication by William Heinemann in 1993 – a week after her fortieth birthday – Helen then became a USA Today Bestseller with her historical novel, The Forever Queen (titled A Hollow Crown in the UK) with the sequel, Harold the King (US: I Am The Chosen King) being novels that explore the events that led to the Battle of Hastings in 1066. Her Pendragon’s Banner Trilogy is a fifth-century version of the Arthurian legend, and she also writes a pirate-based nautical adventure/fantasy series, The Sea Witch Voyages. Her non-fiction books are Pirates: Truth and Tales and Life of A Smuggler. She also runs Discovering Diamonds, a review blog for historical fiction. She is currently writing more Voyages for the Sea Witch series and the next in the Jan Christopher Mysteries series. She has other ideas for other tales – and would like the time to write them! Find out more at Helen's website: www.helenhollick.net and find her on Facebook and Twitter: @HelenHollick

Special Guest Interview with Alison Morton, author of Double Identity

Available on Amazon UK and Amazon US

It’s three days since Mel des Pittones threw in her job as an intelligence analyst with the French special forces to marry financial trader Gérard Rohlbert. But her dream turns to nightmare when 

she wakes to find him dead in bed beside her.

This move into contemporary crime is quite away from your Roma Nova alternative history thrillers which have featured on the Writing Desk many times. What’s the story behind it?

It’s all historical fiction writer Conn Iggulden’s fault! He was reading INSURRECTIO for me and threw me a challenge. He commented, ‘You clearly have the knack for fast plotting tension. I kept coming back to see what happened next.’ He suggested I recast one of my alternative Roma Novan heroines as a member of a modern-day European organisation and run the story as a crime thriller. Who could resist that? So I sat down and plotted and let it all swirl round in my head. Double Identity is the result. 

A second motive which fed into the above ‘plotting and swirling’ was a desire to write a heroine with a connection to Poitou in France where I live. Of course, there is a historical element in it, especially in Mel’s name and family.

How have your previous books helped?

Well, although they featured a society run by people descended from Romans and running it on Roman lines, the stories of Carina, Conrad and Aurelia were very much thrillers. As with stories of any Roman society, whether ancient or modern, there was plenty of betrayal, courage, righteous causes, political reality, coups d’état, sacrifice, endurance and toughness but mine were leavened with love and some witty remarks.

Double Identity is very much a modern story, but again a thriller with a tough and courageous heroine, but this one has a different personality and a dual nationality which gives us some lovely internal conflict! 

What are some unusual things you discovered researching Double Identity?

The military scenes for Mel were reasonably easy to write thanks to my six years in uniform although the career structure and unit training were quite different. I pored over French Ministry of Defence and armed services sites for hours! The most intriguing was researching French military voice procedure when using walkie-talkies!  

Another thing is to get transport and communications right – how TGV high speed trains are organised, toll roads, whether you can find a garage open on Sundays in rural France (No, you can’t!). As historical fiction writers, we know how slow ox-drawn carts can be, how long it can take to walk from village A to village B, or ride by fast king’s courier. That same meticulousness has to be applied to modern transport. And as for finding a parking place in central London or Brussels? Now that is an impossible task!

Would you give us a taste of Double Identity?

Mel shivered. A cold breeze drifted over her bare backside. Dieu, the window must be open. Stupid in late November in London. But windows had been the last things on Mel’s mind last night.
   Still drugged with sleep, she stretched out her hand towards Gérard’s face. His eyes were closed, the lashes resting on his pale cheeks. Too much time indoors, Mel thought and smiled. In his early morning relaxed state, Gérard looked more like a boy of seventeen than a man of thirty-seven.
   Her eyelids were so heavy. She closed them. After a few seconds, she realised she wasn’t tired, just thick-headed. Opening her eyes again, she blinked hard then tugged on the duvet to cover them both against the too fresh air, but it was trapped under Gérard’s body. Never mind, she could think of a much more pleasurable way to warm up than hiding under the bedclothes. She stroked his skin with the tips of her fingers sliding over the fine brown hairs on his shoulder, then down his chest and over his stomach towards…
  He didn’t stir.
  He was cold. Stone cold.
  No.
  Then the smell hit her.
  She sat up. The world spun around her. She shot her hand out onto the mattress to steady herself, then knelt beside him. Not wanting to, but knowing she had to, she stretched out her hand, two fingers close together, for the side of his throat. Nothing. She pressed harder, desperate for a sign. But he was too still and too pale. And the blue lips…
  Dieu, no. Not her Gérard. Not clever, witty, vibrant Gérard. He couldn’t be gone. But she’d confirmed enough dead bodies during her military life, the last only three weeks ago in a blazing desert wadi in Africa. She sat back, shivered and pressed the palms of her hands into her eye sockets. The sourness ran up her gullet. Clamping her hand over her mouth, she stumbled to the bathroom and threw up in the pan.

Ambulance. She must call an ambulance.

She sat on the toilet seat and gulped down water from the plastic tooth mug. In the bedroom, the green-uniformed man and woman were examining Gérard. Through the gap of the almost closed door, Mel could hear them mumbling to each other. After a few minutes, they stopped talking. They were making a call, giving the hotel name.
  The woman came into the bathroom. Her calm face didn’t seem as sympathetic as it had been earlier.
  ‘What is it?’ Mel asked.
  ‘We’ve had to call the police. We’ve found something and there are marks on the deceased’s body.’
  ‘What? Let me see!’ Mel said and leapt up.
  The woman held out her plastic-gloved hand.
  ‘No, stay here, and don’t wash. The police will want to talk to you.’

  ‘What sort of a name is Mellysand?’

  She clutched the bathrobe tighter and braced her legs to steady her balance. This was surreal. Gérard was dead and they suspected her. Why? How was she supposed to have done it? She shook her head which seemed full of mush thumping to escape.

  ‘It’s pronounced “Mél-i-send-uh”,’ she said. ‘And it’s the name I was given by my parents.’ 

  ‘Not very English, is it?’  

  Le bon Dieu save me from these parochial Brits, she thought. And this cop was even worse than most. He didn’t look like one either in his jeans, tan leather jacket, unshaven and with a single earring. But his warrant card looked genuine, and the two uniformed police outside had let him in.

  ‘You got any ID?’ he barked.

  Mel pulled a pale turquoise and blue card with her photo and signature out of her purse and offered it to him. 

  ‘French?’ He frowned, flicked it over to the other side, then back. ‘You don’t sound very French.’

  ‘That’s where I was born. My mother is English.’

  ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘Visiting friends and doing some shopping.’

  ‘I’ll need a list of those friends and dates.’

  ‘Why? Am I under suspicion?’

  The cop looked down at the bed, duvet pulled back, bottom sheet stained by body fluids.  

 ‘When there’s a dead man in your bed and you were presumably the last person to see him alive, let’s say you’re at least a person of interest.’

# # #

About the Author

Alison writes award-winning thrillers series featuring tough, but compassionate heroines. She blends her deep love of France with six years’ military service and a life of reading crime, historical, adventure and thriller fiction. On the way, she collected a BA in modern languages and an MA in history. Now Alison continues to write thrillers and drink wine in France with her husband. Find out more at Alison's website  https://alison-morton.com and find her on Facebook and Twitter @alison_morton