Author Archives: Roland Clarke

#IWSG – Favoured Genre

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Created  and hosted by the Ninja Captain himself, Alex J. Cavanaugh, theInsecure Writer’s Support Groupmonthly blog post is here again – and so am I.

I’m still recovering from the A to Z month and INSECURE as I have a shrinking backlog of emails/blog posts, reviews to write, as well as the final few WRiTE CLUB rounds, plus short stories to write.

These include an entry for the 2019 IWSG Anthology – another Insecurity. I’m going to write outside my comfort zone as the requirement is: Genre: Middle Grade Historical – Adventure/Fantasy. Sounds great. Middle Grade – I’ve never tried. Historical – I read so okay. Adventure – check. Fantasy – check. But together? What sort of genre is that?

Theme is no problem as ‘Voyagers’ can be interpreted lots of ways. I even have two historical ideas, but they aren’t fantasy as such – not yet.

I’m going to read The Wolf Wilder by Katherine Rundell as it’s MG. It’s MG, historical, and fantasy – according to Goodreads – and it’s on my desk. But I’m unclear whether my ideas fit ‘Historical – Adventure/Fantasy’. More research?

Katherine Arden’s The Bear and the Nightingale as a read might fit, and it’s on my bookshelf – but it’s YA not MG.

Lots of reading ahead whatever path I tread.

Anyway, on to this month’s question.

June 5 question: Of all the genres you read and write, which is your favourite to write in and why?

Interesting question as I read multiple genres: mystery/crime/thriller; historical; alternative history; fantasy; science fiction/speculative; post-apocalyptic. Over the decades, I’ve tried to write most of those.

But – for now – I come back to crime. Crime in the sense of my police procedural series, Snowdon Shadows.

Why? As my protagonist, Sparkle Anwyl is a fascinating character to write – quirky and a detective with her unique approach to solving crime. Plus, my heart is back in North Wales, where the series is set.

Yes, there are other draft novels in different genres. But Sparkle and duty calls.

*

The awesome co-hosts for the June 5 posting of the IWSG are Diane Burton,Kim Lajevardi,Sylvia Ney,Sarah Foster,Jennifer Hawes, and Madeline Mora-Summonte!

Purpose of IWSG: To share and encourage. Writers can express doubts and concerns without fear of appearing foolish or weak. Those who have been through the fire can offer assistance and guidance. It’s a safe haven for insecure writers of all kinds!

Every month, we announce a question that members can answer in their IWSG post. These questions may prompt you to share advice, insight, a personal experience or story. Include your answer to the question in your IWSG post or let it inspire your post if you are struggling with something to say.

Posting: The first Wednesday of every month is officially Insecure Writer’s Support Group day. Post your thoughts on your own blog. Talk about your doubts and the fears you you have conquered. Discuss your struggles and triumphs. Offer a word of encouragement for others who are struggling. Visit others in the group and connect with your fellow writer – aim for a dozen new people each time – and return comments. This group is all about connecting!

Let’s rock the neurotic writing world!

Our Twitter handle is @TheIWSG and hashtag is #IWSG.

Every month, we announce a question that members can answer in their IWSG post. These questions may prompt you to share advice, insight, a personal experience or story. Include your answer to the question in your IWSG post or let it inspire your post if you are struggling with something to say. 

#WEP/IWSG June 2019 Challenge – Caged Bird

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Originally, I had planned to write a Sparkle Anwyl case for the 2019 WEP + IWSG Challenge starting in April and ending in December. I wrote the first episode in April, but then posted the next episode of Kindled Casket, last month. There is a ‘caged bird’ in the episode but not as planned – that follows in the next episode. That case will unfold over the next few months.

Hence, the attached standalone short – Fettered Air. A departure from my Welsh police procedural, so your responses will interest me.

Fettered Air

I slide ski-swift across the winter’s blanket under the Blood Wolf’s Moon. Beside me the chicken-legged hut creak-crashes through the forest.

We’re alone in the taiga.

No sign of Baba Yaga. She’s vanished as have the denizens. No howling wolves. Nor snow leopard scents. No eagle-owl hoots. Nor honking swans. No ice-crawlers corpse feeding.

For nothing breathes in the wailing wind.

Yet, Nature writhes in pain, dragon’s bile dripping on her from mortal fangs.

I am Skaði. Goddess, giantess, huntress and snow-stealth specialist. Size is not the issue. Speed is.

The house is noisier, but we make a team. This hut can track her mistress better than even I, its feet scratching up clues, windows watching for signs.

Our mission came from Svetovid, seer and guardian god – and we had no choice.

“Find Baba Yaga before this world rebels.”

Why me, a giantess from Jötunheimr? Because neither Odin nor Thor will ask me ever since the marital strife with my spouse, Njörðr.

“Nobody else volunteered,” added Svetovid. “Besides those deities I posted on separate operations.”

He’s as secretive as my Vanir and Aesir brethren. Not just Loki plays with intelligence. Our trickster-thief and clown has too many imitators.

“Others are missing?” I asked, expecting evasion.

“Find Baba Yaga. That’s all.”

So, a need-to-know answer means Skaði is disposable. Nothing has changed.

Am I that terrible?

I had my reasons for smashing my husband’s sand sculptures. The whale-way was a prison with seabirds flaunting freedom.

But he called my majestic mountain retreat a dreary cell. “I’m trapped here. I can’t ski or snowboard like you.” He ranted and ripped down my hunting trophies.

“Skadi Hunting in the Mountains” (1901) by H. L. M – Foster, Mary H. 1901. Asgard Stories: Tales from Norse Mythology. Silver, Burdett and Company

Marriage dissolved.

Thus, I get the menial tasks. Unless Odin sends his ravens or wolves with heart-baits.

Not this occasion. A telepathic eagle with four heads.  

“Find Baba Yaga.” Svetovid’s orders resound in my brain.

The wilderness wrestles promethium chains. That is enough reason to pursue the quarry.

So we scour Siberia.

The creak-crashing hut spins above the earth-coat. We have the crone’s spoor. 

Calls and cries clamour on the snow-breath.

Ahead a green clearing by a lake glows bright. Invisible to vicious human eyes, but I see the torches, tents and throng bridging the veils.

Baba has parked her mortar by a host of other vehicles, one that is familiar – my stepdaughter’s pantherine-drawn chariot.

With groans and creaks, the chicken-legs spin the hut to a halt by the pestle-guarded mortar. Shutters slam shut. A fence of human bones topped with skulls encircles them.

My gaze shoots arrows at the polytheistic conclave nobody invited me to.

Goddesses gathered from the Nine Realms. They have abandoned their posts to feast. Brews flow, dice roll and deities chatter. Everyone distracted as Midgard clamours for release.

Baba knocks back vodka, cackling to another crone – Hecate, clutching a goatskin of wine. Their dice are corpse-stones, and Hel’s are soul-vessels. 

Are they oblivious to the desolation? Among the feasting, denizen envoys are airing their anxiety.  

My pounding heart settles. Mind muses past irritable white-out.

Not all the deities are wizen and wild in their attire and behaviour. Some goddesses appear serious.

Freyja, stepdaughter and party animal rises – statuesque and sober, despite her goblet of mead.

Her eyes seize mine as she silences the symposium.

“Sisters, the snow-dancer is here. The world cries, and we have battle-sweat to spill. But when shall we three score meet again?”

“When the chaos is banished, when the spear-din is won,” Hel replies.

I add my voice, realising their design. “Ere midnight. After the sleep of the blade claims those flouting our laws.” Faces flash in my head. I smile. “Nature’s justice must wield the icicle of blood against false leaders poisoning life.”

My sisters nod. Creatures yowl.

Freyja smiles and summons her champions. “I come, Durga and Adrastea. We have fangs to extract.”
Her pantherines roar in response.

We will shatter the fetters on Nature. No more will humans build cages entrapping our laughter and song.

Yes, this is my #WEP/IWSG post for June so part of the 2019 WEP/IWSG Challenge. This a standalone short, although Skaði appears in my novel Eagle Passage, which I wrote the first draft of for NaNoWriMo 2016.

Word Count 660: FCA

Comments are welcome as usual and the following applies:

#MyInvisibleMS – Rising above My MS

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Thursday May 30th, 2019, marks World MS Day, an opportunity for the global community to come together, share stories, and increase awareness about what living with multiple sclerosis (MS) is really like.

The sun is shining, and I can see blue sky outside, so let’s start with the positives.

I might have retired early but now have time to write more fiction – and at my own speed. Fewer deadlines mean less stress.

I get to spend more time with my wife, our dogs and cats, and with my stepfamily. Some family even help us around the house and garden.

My MS symptoms are sporadic and, in some ways, less severe than for others with MS or other chronic diseases. Much of the time, I can ignore them and attempt to get a few things done – like writing and chilling.

I can stay up late – playing computer games – and stay in bed without having to go to work. My schedule and not some magazine’s or newspaper’s.

Relaxation

However, I can’t ignore the invisible nature of MS – even if many do. I’m in a wheelchair so no longer invisible – just an obstacle blocking the aisle or sidewalk. But I wish people would realise my brain still works – well, most of the time but in weird ways.

MS creates a brain fog. I struggle with thoughts, finding my words – lost or jumbled. Thinking can be as hit or miss as writing or speaking. I stumble through this confusion and fall often.

Falling is a fear extending to the physical. When I walked, I stumbled and fell. Now, when I transfer to and from my wheelchair, the danger has changed – somewhat. I still hit the floor hard though. And my wife can’t pick me up so has to call for help.

Is the MS my fault? The truth is none of us sufferers have MS because of some bad habit or poor lifestyle choice. Some things might trigger symptoms – like stress or noise – but there is no known cause. This strikes many different people with varying lifestyles.

I ate organic vegetarian food mostly, didn’t smoke, or drink often. My work wasn’t more stressful than some. But my health dice came up with MS – and leukaemia.

Meeting others with MS, or reading about them, made me realise our symptoms can differ – hence the ‘multiple’. The course of the disease, the speed and the intensity vary. So, our treatments are as diverse as our symptoms.

Symptoms are chronic, debilitating, and so much more intense than others understand. Fatigue strikes fast and not always when I plan to nap. This is not tired in the normal sense.

My emotions flare as well. I get angry over stupid things, from emails to computer games. And the tears flow with regular ease – from pleasure, frustration, from sadness. Intense noise grates, like dogs barking or kids screaming. Sensory overload is a daily hazard.

My internal thermostat is faulty. Most of the time I’m cold but I can overheat, especially in warm, muggy weather. Damp or humid weather don’t suit – even if I miss wet Wales. The sea breeze there dispelled the dampness.

The medical approach to MS, especially here in the US, leans heavily towards keeping the pharmaceutical companies in business, rather than a cure. Disease modifiers – not that I got those with the NHS postcode lottery – are the norm. But there isn’t an acceptable one for my secondary progressive MS. Under neither system was medical marijuana an option for me – well, not legally in Idaho.

But the medical research has brought benefits and relief to many. Those newly diagnosed have choices I didn’t. There is hope out there.

However, people still believe MS is a death sentence – it is not. We are perhaps vulnerable to other conditions as our immune system is compromised. That doesn’t mean MS will kill me. So, don’t count on inheriting yet, brother.

But it is a life sentence. Emphasis on LIFE! The inspirational people with MS tell me “there’s a lot of it to be lived after diagnosis”. I have plans and things to do – like publish the Snowdon Shadows series; and that’s four books and ideas churning.

Whatever condition gets rolled for us, we are warriors and life is precious so worth fighting for.

Visibility

The Multiple Sclerosis International Federation (MSIF) is encouraging family members, caregivers, and patients affected by multiple sclerosis to participate in World MS Day today. Each year, MSIF, which now includes dozens of MS organizations worldwide, launches a campaign focused on a different theme to mark the day. This year’s theme is Visibility. Called “My Invisible MS” (#MyInvisibleMS), the 2019 campaign is geared toward raising awareness of the invisible symptoms of MS, and their hidden impact on the quality of life of MS patients, their family members, and caregivers.

Other Multiple Sclerosis links for today:

Selma Blair and MS https://www.womenshealthmag.com/health/a26532498/selma-blair-ms-gma-interview-spasmodic-dysphonia/

https://multiplesclerosis.net/living-with-ms/world-ms-day/?utm_source=weekly&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=2d9b7d5d-ee8d-403e-b191-2355ae9e436d&utm_confid=sovifjrls&aGVhbHRoIHVuaW9uIGJsYWg=146a932303bed7863edf97fa5abced8af83452853f6d323093713fa1fb4938ce
https://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/entry/world-ms-day_uk_5ceea074e4b07666546f4cec?guccounter=1&guce_referrer=aHR0cHM6Ly9zZWFyY2gueWFob28uY29tLw&guce_referrer_sig=AQAAACZX8wwYM8s5mMl0mItDZgSDDcz7W3SjKXS1jSJ-tE8xdiDbUcsSHs_R1eMys4V0eYOthE8EvytM0nL4rGgEdNchU3Y7sX9Dhtd4OUPiwuVYX7gM2EPz42OuaQOlnZWYkg3ke15FWzGqgxrk9G06EOR3l4epW89Ho8VtGAnhFIKv

Positive Living with MS https://positivelivingwithms.com/2019/05/30/i-am-not-multiple-sclerosis-and-have-not-been-misdiagnosed/

MS On My Mind https://www.msisonmymind.com/what-is-ms-on-my-mind

Montbel – a review

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One day I will catch up with reviewing the books I read over the last few months. Anyway, here’s a review of the third Jacques Forêt mystery, Montbel. This was on the target list for my 2019 challenges, and has counted towards my 2019 Goodreads Challenge– and it’s my seventh Cloak and Dagger read of 2019; with two more to review.

Montbel

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Angela Wren (Goodreads Author)

A clear-cut case? A re-examination of a closed police case brings investigator, Jacques Forêt, up against an old adversary.

After the murder of a key witness, Jacques finds himself, and his team, being pursued. When a vital piece of evidence throws a completely different light on Jacques’ case, his adversary becomes more aggressive, and Investigating Magistrate Pelletier threatens to sequester all of Jacques papers and shut down the case. Can Jacques find all the answers before Pelletier steps in?

The Jacques Forêt mystery series: 
Messandrierre
Merle
Montbel

Review 4.4 stars

This was another intriguing case for Jacques Forêt with a plot that involved chefs and identities, clouded by family intrigue.

It was great to be back in the Cevennes with Jacques, Beth and co. I savoured the familiarity of the setting and the characters, despite the speed at which I devoured the pages. At 178 pages, this was always going to be a fast read, and the dual plots ensured I was wanting more.

Hence, also the brevity of this review.

One plot even builds on the previous book Merle. Plus, Beth, as a photographer gets her own leads to follow – her own mystery to solve – while proving indispensable to Jacques with his investigation. Their romance adds to the novel in a satisfying way.

As before, the French elements imbue the storylines and makes for a rich atmosphere.

One plot ends with a cliff-hanger, and I missed having a resolution. In a way, that sets up the next anticipated book. Jacques and Beth are such memorable characters, I can’t wait to see what happens next.

A fun read, although short – so, four stars plus.

Story – four stars

Setting/World-building – five stars

Characters – five stars

Authenticity – five stars

Structure – four stars

Readability – four stars

Editing – four stars

Kindled Casket

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https://www.walesonline.co.uk/

Here is the continuation of my Jewel Box story featuring Detective Constable Sparkle Anwyl of the North Wales Police. I posted the opening on April 17th as O for Obstructions – Part 15 0f Azure Spark: https://rolandclarke.com/2019/04/17/o-for-obstructions-azure-spark-part-15/

However, I revised it slightly when I edited ‘Azure Spark’ at the end of April – https://rolandclarke.com/2019/04/17/o-for-obstructions-azure-spark-part-15/ . I intended to continue the story for the June WEP/IWSG Challenge but have something else for ‘Caged Bird’.

Rose Gold Pendant –http://celticandwelshjewellery.co.uk/product/rose-gold-pendant-26/

Kindled Casket

Saturday 1st August 2015 – Early Morning

Swimming settles hangovers.

Kama and I race out of the swell and across the sands of Morfa Bychan beach.

“Your turn to make breakfast, cariad,” she says as I overtake her. “Your full Welsh to prepare us for work. Ffion will await us bright and eager.”

We sprint towards our cottage. “Even if our DI was partying late at our party. I’ll have no excuse to not confront my backlog.”

Resolved one crime – dozens more emerging. Plus, the never-ending paperwork. Stifle the sinking stomach. This is the price of criminal detection with CID.

Bacon, sausages, mushrooms, eggs, cockles and laver bread sets up the day.

Cloudless weather boosts our motorbike ride to Porthmadog.

The paper on my desk has spread overnight. My Email in-box has overflowed again. Fight through this. Make space for the arson.

In forty minutes, I can focus on the case file.

Two conflicting reports on the incident lead. Liam’s forensic analysis suggests arson. Although, Fire Officer Anwyl’s notes claim it was a traffic accident. Did I count on any support from my brother?

No.

Yet, both mention ‘excessive petroleum splashes’. However, Liam detected traces of a silvery powdery crumb that was not a firefighting residue.

P for Petroleum and Powder. A reason to tackle Owen at the Caernarfon fire station.

I scan the ‘unrelated jewel thefts’ – low value pieces. There are mixed reports from uniform colleagues. Three statements are meticulous, but the other two are vague. No arrests. Just familiar suspects – including Poulsen Leach.

My tattoos set my skin tingling, and my fingers tapping my bracer.

Hugh Arbuthnot, the gift shop owner, accused his son-in-law of ‘mixing in shady circles’.

Poulsen’s record includes a spell in gaol and fines. Further, it shares a name with uniform’s suspicions. Despite this, we have not recovered any stolen items – yet. Not even at known fences.

A for Arbuthnot, Accusations, Arson and Accomplices.

S for Suspects – and for Suspicious. SAP.

Too S for Simple. Delve deeper and search sideways. Interview Poulsen and his wife, Olivia as she ran Y Bocs. Check if someone stole the 4×4.

*

I power along the A487 towards Caernarfon, gritting my teeth. Owen. Can I work with him, even with the approval of DI Ffion Baines? I must. He agreed to meet on the phone. Since he wanted me investigating. Why?

I park alongside the two-storey fire station, answers vying for dominance. My head throbs in time with my churning guts. Relax. Breathe. He’s like a fellow officer.

“Meinwen, let’s talk over a drink.” He smiles as he meets me at reception. Relaxed and confidant. “We have a great café nearby – not instant muck.”

He shows me back outside and nods at the black motorcycle. “Still a biker. No changes then.”

“Another major incident resolved. On to our burnt-out shop inquiry so I need your help. Why can’t we chat in your office?”

“I’m done arguing in front of my teammates.” He gestures to a red North Wales Fire and Rescue van. “Besides, we’ve family issues to discuss.”

The conversation I don’t need today. The usual blame. You were tad’s favourite. Meinwen did this…

“As long as we still review the arson case.”

*

The coffee is fresh brewed, and the brownie is a decadent treat.

“Talk, brawd dewr,” I say, forcing a grin.

He continues in our mother tongue. “Did our tad want you in the force over me? I never knew.”

The question he should have asked tad before he died. Owen buries his anger – but it’s simmering.

Don’t feed it. “No. He was scared whoever followed him into the police might have family problems like—”

“—him and mam, but that came later. In your mid teens, you were talking about joining—”

“—the force? I was only a vigilante.” I sip the rich brew, searching for a path around the sleeping flames. “That’s what tad called the Goth Patrol – before he inspired us. He must have dropped hints to your class too.”

He sputters. “Community service lectures – from every single emergency service. I never realised tad was behind those.” His turn to bury himself in his mug, then take a final swig.

I order more coffee – without tempting chocolate brownies. Will our chat end the sibling rivalry?

“That road traffic accident might not be arson. I presume you read my exhaustive report.”

I switch into case gear. “Yes. Our forensic guys agree with the ‘excessive petroleum splashes’. What could cause those in your experience?”

“A leaking petrol container.” He hesitates, rapping his knuckles together. “If the vehicle reached the right-hand side of the shop. I’ll run a test back at the station. Maybe a simulation. A smash-raid requires speed to damage the fuel tank.”

“Although, wasn’t it half inside the shopfront?”

Owen nods. “And not all the splatters were there. The raiders might have incinerated the car to destroy its identity.”

“We can still trace it.” If someone from NWP hasn’t yet run a search. “Our senior forensics guy, Liam Rhys detected the remains of a white dust. Not drugs or a harmless household product. Did you take a sample?”

My brother stares at me, eyes ablaze. “You accusing us of missing evidence? The powder is our dry chemical agent, stupid. I will send your Rhys what he needs to strike that off your suspicions, Meinwen.” He drains his coffee and stands. “I need to get back and investigate other incidents – pressing ones.”

Dismissed again. I follow him to the van. We don’t speak until we reach his workplace.

He smoulders as he parks, then slams his door when he gets out. “Thus, a smash-raid gone wrong. Your thieves torched the vehicle and caused a fire – not arson. I’ll put your forensics guy right and you can close your file.”

No fond farewell. He stalks away as if renewing our absurd rivalry.

R for Rivalry and Ram-raid. A for Arson and Anger. P for Petrol and Powder.

RAP sheet or PAR for our relationship?

If I add E for Evidence and Excuses, then PARE. Shave off the distracting details, for now.

I dial Forensics as I walk to my Kawasaki Ninja.

“Thanks Liam, for the detailed report on Y Bocs – The Jewel Box crime scene. I’ve just talked with the Fire Investigator – my evasive brother. He insists that the crumb was their chemical agent.”

“A chemical, but an unidentified incendiary.”

Why is Owen ignoring blatant evidence? To provoke or obstruct me? Petty most likely. Does he expect us to do his work? Although, he’s a professional.

“He’ll send you a specimen. Can you help find the actual powder?”

He chuckles. “On it. I’ll email you my conclusion.”

The station doors open and one appliance leaves heading towards town.

“Any identification found on the vehicle used? Or was it too badly torched?”

“The perpetrators tried to erase the plates and other marks. But not thoroughly enough. The 4×4 was a 2012 Dacia Duster registered to Poulsen Leach – reported stolen a week before the fire.”

My heartbeat rises, but tattoos sting. More convenient evidence – more questions for Poulsen and Olivia.

*

Half-an-hour weaving through lunchtime traffic focuses my racing mind.

Kama points at the new row of post-its across my desk. “Compliments of your friends stuck in this hot office. Enjoy.” She winks and takes half. “I desire you home early tonight.”

“For one of your tasty Tamil treats. As you’re cooking.”

More emails too – including Liam’s analysis of the crumb.

Material is an industry standard pyrotechnic flash powder composed of aluminium dust and potassium perchlorate. The natural colour is dark grey, but someone doctored this composition. Hence, it simulates the dry fire suppressant. Look for a pyrotechnician.

As Executive Producer of Oriole Productions, Hugh B Arbuthnot has the special effects contacts. So, the means to frame the son-in-law he belittles.
Too obvious?

R for Ram-raid and Relations. U for Unreal and Used. F for Flash and Film. A for Accusations and Arson. D for Dacia Duster and Deception.

FRAUD. By who?

**

I Am the Chosen King – a review

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Over the next two or three weeks, I intend to review the seven books read in recent months. Some of these were on my list for my 2019 challenges, and all have counted towards my 2019 Goodreads Challenge.

First is a novel I won in a giveaway on the author’s website that I follow. As it is a thick book, I had some difficulty carrying it around in my old wheelchair. But over time, I found a solution and read the novel.

I Am the Chosen King

(Saxon #1)

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Helen Hollick

Original Title when published in the UK: Harold the King

In this beautifully crafted tale, Harold Godwinesson, the last Saxon King of England, is a respected, quick-witted man both vulnerable and strong, honorable and loving-and yet, in the end, only human. After the political turmoil and battles leading up to 1066, we all know William the Conquerer takes England. But Helen Hollick will have readers at the edge of their seats, hoping that just this once, for Harold, the story will have a different ending.

Review 5 stars

This beautifully written novel was well worth spending time reading. In summary, I loved all the details and characters. Although I already opposed the Normans, Helen Hollick turned me into a fan of Harold Godwinesson. But I’ve never liked William the Conqueror – even when I discovered the Normans had Norse ancestors. The novel felt well-researched.

On a superficial level and the one I learnt at school decades ago, the story is straightforward. But the reality and the twists, intrigues and rivalry as it unfolds is complex. Helen Hollick captures all the nuances and fills in history’s gaps convincingly.

The settings in England and Normandy evoked a sense of what the 11th century was possibly like. Some of the places I glimpsed from my own travels. For instance, London and its environs were very different and yet the descriptions triggered images and memories in my imagination. I lived for a few years near Waltham Abbey, so could picture it as it was.

One negative could be the portrayal of the original Britons – the Welsh. Were the Welsh worse than other peoples around that period? Ruling England is a tough job, but does it mean all one’s enemies are violent savages? Or is that my Welsh bias?

Anyways, the Godwinesson family take centre stage, led by Harold’s influential father, Earl Godwin. Early on there are indications that sibling rivalry is inevitable, and as the story unfolds it becomes more intense leading to the fatal actions of one brother, Tostig. How the role of other family members weaves into this is well-portrayed and justified.

Then there is royal intrigue. Again, inevitable given the characters, a reluctant King, his powerful mother – Emma, Queen and wife of the late Cnut the Great – and then Harold’s politically astute father. Emma, who is the protagonist of Hollick’s next book in the series, The Forever Queen – chronologically a prequel – is reluctant to let her son, Edward rule as if he’s weak. But this ‘confessor’ is distracted by spiritual matters – until he tastes power.

I’m not going to accuse the author of treating her characters as black and white as others have. They take sides and few of them waver. Even the despicable William has his moments of introspection. So, the characters felt realistic, reacting and creating events. Some lived dangerously, wanting what others had and failing – or in William’s case succeeding.

Emma must teach Harold’s ambitious sister Edith about her duties as Queen when she marries Edward, becoming the next Queen of England. And what does power do when petty sibling rivalry plays its role? Hollick weaves that rivalry into the historical facts, and the tale unfolds as it did in 1066. Fortunately, Harold’s hand-fast wife, Edith Swanneck rises above this rivalry, and their love endures even when he has to marry another in the eyes of the church – another relationship well-portrayed.

When Edward dies and Harold is chosen as the King of England, other claimants emerge inevitably. One is Duke William of Normandy. Historically he claimed both Edward and Harold had promised him the crown, but the records are questionable enough for the writer to expand on the facts and give Harold justification for accepting the crown himself.

Result – invasions north and south. The pace builds as the ending unfolds that most English know from school. So, we know what happens in this timeline. Tostig creates tension and trouble with his Norwegian allies. And as made clear in the scenes of him securing his dukedom, William never gives up. History can’t be changed.

Damn that Norman bastard.

The tension of those final days gripped me as I marched up and down England. Hollick had me praying for an English victory. ‘What if’ kept playing through her words. But this wasn’t the clever alternative history collection, 1066 Turned Upside Down which Hollick contributed to. This was the actual year 1066 but crafted brilliantly and enjoyably.

Story – five stars

Setting/World-building – five stars

Characters – five stars

Authenticity – five stars

Structure – five stars

Readability – five stars

Editing – five stars