Zoë Sharp on, "What Not To Say to a Writer"

Jeff––Saturday

As Murder is Everywhere rapidly approaches its seven millionth (7,000,000) site visitor and five thousandth (5000) post, I thought it appropriate to share with you a favorite of mine from MIE’s top-20 all-time most popular posts.  Every time I read it, I can’t help but chuckle at the Oscar Wilde style insights and quips of its author, the inimitable Zoë Sharp. Zoe wrote it nearly eleven years ago, but it’s as applicable today as it undoubtedly will be  tomorrow…and tomorrow…and tomorrow. 

We miss you, Zoe, and it goes without saying you're welcome back any time. But I'll still say it. :)

 

Last week I went to a party. An unusual event in itself for me, but this was doubly unusual because it was a party of non-writers. Over the last few years my few social gatherings have tended to be at writing conventions, so I find myself largely Among My Own Kind, as it were.

However, this was different. I found myself in a group of people, very few of whom I’d met previously, and none of whom were writers. Not only that, but they didn’t quite have a handle on exactly what it was I did for a living.

It is a bit of a peculiar occupation for those not involved in it to grasp, I admit, and I’ve often discovered that when people don’t understand what you do, they are—unintentionally, I’m sure—incredibly rude about it. Now, don’t get me wrong. These were otherwise terribly nice people, but after a while I started to play Writer’s Insult Bingo, and very nearly scored a Full House.

“So, how much do you make from this book writing thing, then?”

Now, I’m sure this was asked with only genuine curiosity in mind, to find out if so nebulous a career was one that could be pursued as a career, and not merely as a hobby. Unfortunately, the Brit in me finds discussing money all rather vulgar, so I contented myself with saying, “I make a living, thank you.”

“Are you likely to have written anything I might have read?”

This is one of those questions that’s impossible to answer unless you happen to know the person and their reading habits very well indeed. In which case, they wouldn’t need to ask, would they? But it’s the implication that, naturally, you’re not famous enough for them to have heard of, because you haven’t written one of those books that everybody seems to have read almost as a matter of course, like THE DA VINCI CODE or FIFTY SHADES OF GREY. Quite what they’d do if you said, “Well, yes, actually. I am Dan Brown, but this evening I’m off duty …” I have no idea.

“Oh, I don’t read.” (usually said with a certain amount of pride)

I struggle not to react to this one. A very good friend came up with the perfect response. After introducing me to a new acquaintance as “ … the well-known crime writer …” he was met with this and without hesitation came back with this straight-face reply: “Oh, we can teach you!” I am also reminded of Mark Twain’s famous quote to the effect that what discernible difference is there between people who don’t read, and those who can’t read? I managed not to come out with this one at the party either. Heroic what restraint I have, isn’t it?

“I only read one book a year—on holiday—and I download that from one of these free sites.”

Lovely. This is like telling someone who owns a clothing boutique that you’d rather walk round naked than  buy clothes, but on the rare occasions when you do happen to need a new jacket, you shoplift it without a hint of shame …

“I’d write a book … if only I had the time.”

Because of course, that’s all you need in order to write a novel—the time. No talent, no persistence, no ability to create believable characters, a salient plot, a meaningful theme or a realistic setting. Nope, all you need is the time. And the implication here is that they have far more important things to do with their time anyway.

“I’m going to write a book, based on my experiences as (cue drum roll) an accountant!”

I’m sure very exciting things happen when you’re an accountant. I recall an old Dick Francis book where the main character was involved in just that profession and I seem to recall that all those books kept me turning the pages until the wee small hours. And while I would never cast doubt on anyone’s literary ambitions, this would need a careful approach in order to work successfully without giving away professional confidences. After all, it worked for a certain country veterinary surgeon some years ago, didn’t it?

“I read one of your books … I haven’t read any of the others, though.”

Now, I know what was behind this remark. It was said because I’d put a relative into the book in question as a cameo character and she wanted to see how he was portrayed, but it came over as meaning that once was more than enough, and the experience put her off wanting to read any of my other work. Although, for all I know that may have been exactly what she meant. In which case I’ll get me coat …

“I haven’t read any of your books, but I just borrowed one from my friend.”

This is a bit of a double-edged one. Yes, it’s nice that the person was prepared to give my work a try, but if they don’t want to take the risk and shell out money when it might be not to their taste, I’d far rather they said they borrowed a copy from their local library. This ensures that the author is paid nearly sixpence in Public Lending Right earnings and—more importantly—keeps the libraries used and funded.

“Oh, here’s an idea for a book for you …”

OK, so I didn’t get this one at the party (part of the reason I failed to be able to call, “House!”) but it happens quite a lot. In truth, I have more ideas for books kicking around than I know what to do with, and even if I hadn’t I’d be very reluctant to use one suggested by someone else. After all, if they tell you the idea and you then write it, perhaps to some success, what kind of a royalty do they expect for their part? A good idea can be totally ruined if it’s badly executed, just as brilliant writing will rescue a so-so idea.

“I wouldn’t mind reading one of your books, if you’ve got one lying around anywhere.”

This has been said too many times for me to count. I am given very few free books to give away, and usually I do so to people who’ve been very helpful in allowing me to pick their brains during the writing process, and are mentioned in the acknowledgements. The idea that I am given a boxful to hand out to people who may do me the honour of giving the book a casual onceover is wearying. Enough people already expect the blood of my labours to be given away for nothing. It implies you think what someone does has no commercial value.

“Where do you get your ideas?”

This also was not one I heard at the party, but it’s so common at writing talks and events that I had to include it here. The truth is, if you have to ask then you are not a writer. Ideas are everywhere. They surround and absorb us. Every news item, documentary, overheard comment or chance remark—all are rich with possibilities. I developed a theory years ago that writers may have some form of mild autism.

After all, the human brain is being constantly bombarded with information, far too much to react to, but we filter out everything we don’t need. The autistic mind lacks that filtering system, which is why people with autism often have photographic memories and the facility with numbers or ability to draw remarkably accurately. In the case of a writer, we pick up threads of ideas that most people miss. With last year’s Charlie Fox novella, ABSENCE OF LIGHT, I sat in a fascinating lecture at the local WI by a senior Home Office pathologist about his work reconciling the bodies from the Christchurch earthquake. All the while I was scribbling furiously in a notebook when just about everyone else listened and enjoyed, I’ve no doubt, but without the urge to take the basic idea and go, “What if …?”

I’m sure everyone must have come across their own favourite insults, not only to writers, but towards any profession. Care to share your favourites?

This week’s Word of the Week is agraphia, meaning an inability to write, although it differs from the usual writer’s block as it is defined as a language disorder resulting from some form of brain damage. It is noted that there’s no direct treatment for agraphia, although some people can learn techniques to help them regain a portion of their previous writing abilities. It is often accompanied by aphasia­ (speechlessness) and alexia (the inability to understand written words).

Thanks, Zoë.  We miss you.  You're welcome anytime.
––Jeff

Jeff’s NOT DEAD YET Events

(Schedule in formation)

2025

All Live Events

Sunday, April 13, 2:00 p.m. MST
The Poisoned Pen Bookstore
Author Speaking and Signing
Scottsdale, AZ

Thursday, May 15- Sunday, May 18 

CrimeFest

Author Panels yet to be assigned

Bristol, UK

My Time in Crime(fest)

 Ovidia--every other Tuesday

Given the 14 1/2 hour flight and 7 hour time difference between the UK and Singapore and because I haven't yet come down from the high of traveling again, this is going to be all about Crimefest and my time in the UK--

and look who I met there even before the conference started!

From left: Caro Ramsay, Cara Black, Stan Trollip and Zoe Sharp

Cara and Stan are two of the founding members and guiding lights of the Murder Is Everywhere blog and along with Caro and Zoe are people I've only known on the page and on screen up till now. But it felt like--no, not like meeting up with old friends--but like discovering long lost relatives, almost. 

I've noticed it before: you may not love (may not even have read) everything they've written, might not agree with some of the ways they commit murder, yet you instantly feel like you're accepted, because you're part of the same tribe.

There's something to be said for spilling all your blood on the page--in real life you can stick with coffee and vino and book talk...

...Though I'm not sure about Cara--who turned up at the gala dinner trying to disguise the fact she'd been painfully injured in what was probably a confrontation worthy of Kate Rees or Aimée Leduc by saying something about falling into an open crypt in a closed church... and the next day all the roads around our area were closed off by the police. They said it was the AJ Bell Great Bristol Run but what would you rather believe?

Cara and I were both on the Dark Times WW2 history panel, along with Chris Lloyd and Mark Ellis (far right), moderated by Luke McCallin (far left). 

That dark time feels very close now, given the worst ravages of WW2 and Covid covered roughly the same amount of time and territory on this planet. Just like there were toddlers at the end of the war who didn't know a world without air raid sirens, there are pre-schoolers now who've never known a world without masks.

I enjoyed the chance to meet some of my writing heroes at the humour too--

From left: Mike Ripley, me, Simon Brett (moderator), T.E. Kinsey and Peter Guttridge.

It was a special thrill to meet Simon Brett since his Mrs Pargeter and Charles Paris are two big reasons why I love mystery fiction! And the Mike Ripley (even more entertaining in real life than on the page) who, as an archaeologist, is 'one of the few crime writers who regularly turns up real bodies'!

It was a wonderful experience. The best part was knowing that pretty much everyone you meet is interested in the same things you are. Given how much of our time is spent solitary, staring at a page or screen, it was super to talk it over with others who spend their time pretty much the same way.

I got to talk (mostly, given how little I know) listen to talk about agents, ChatGPT, writer strikes in America, translations, indie publishing, political correctness and social norms, food and drink and books, books, books, books!

And I got to fangirl stalk and get physical books signed by Vaseem Khan and Martin Edwards, never mind I already had ebook versions of those same books on my reader!

Then it was over and I was back in London.

This is me with my lovely editor Krystyna Green on top of the Hachette Building (Carmelite House) on the Victoria Embankment--with some of the most incredible views of London. 

I was gleefully picking out landmarks but felt vaguely that something was off... and realised it was because there was no soundtrack. Because most of what I've seen of London has been on screen, there's always been a soundtrack when Buckingham Palace or the Tower Bridge or Westminster Abbey come into view. 

But reality is both quieter on the surface and much more vibrant beneath. 

Thank you, Krystyna, for making all this possible!

And finally, taking a little step towards a future project I'm keeping my fingers crossed will happen--a meeting with Christopher and Emma who introduced me to sticky toffee pudding.

 

Yes, the sticky toffee pudding was super. I definitely want more of that and I so definitely hope to be back in England again soon. 

Is anyone up for Crimefest 2024?

 

So long, and thanks for all the fish

A goodbye to Murder Is Everywhere

 

Zoë Sharp

 

Time is short and seems to be getting shorter by the day. The list of things I need to do grows, and the thing that seems to be squeezed out the most is the writing. Ironic, when that is – to use the kind of language found only in business meetings – supposed to be my ‘core activity’.

 

I’ve had eighteen months of health ups and downs, from which I am finally emerging. Not unscathed, but emerging, nonetheless. It has made me focus on what I want to achieve, and how best to go about this, and my inevitable conclusion was: something’s gotta give.

 

With great reluctance, I realised that that ‘something’ was my blogging efforts on Murder Is Everywhere. It’s been an honour and a privilege to count myself among the fine authors collected on MiE, but needs must.

 

I hope to continue to blog on my own website, and have even been offered the occasional guest spot by one or two of my friends on MiE. I shall take them up on that, gratefully, when the urge is upon me, and I feel I have something interesting to say.

 

Meanwhile I plan to use the time I gain productively. Otherwise, the sacrifice will hardly have been worth it. I’ve made some changes over the course of this year so far, but still have a long way to go.

 

So, in the words of the late, great Douglas Adams, ‘So long, and thanks for all the fish.’ Which, for those of you not familiar with his work, was the title of the fourth book in the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy trilogy. (Yes, I know, but just run with it, OK?)

 

It was the message left by the dolphins when they left earth, shortly before it was demolished by the Vogons to make way for a hyperspace bypass.

 

Somehow, it seemed appropriate.

 

This week’s Word of the Week is a conglomeration I heard during a radio interview recently – emanciated. It means to be free, but starving…

Adventures in Wales

Gŵyl Crime Cymru Festival and Portmeirion

Zoë Sharp

 

There’s something soulful about being near the sea. I rather miss no longer living close enough to smell the salt water or hear the rhythmic rush of waves on a shingle beach. Even the cry of seagulls makes me come over all nostalgic and a little misty-eyed.

 

So last weekend—April 21st-23rd—I was delighted to find myself at the western edge of Wales, in Aberystwyth for the Gŵyl CRIME CYMRU Festival. The Festival was split between two venues in the town—both a stone's skip from the seafront. One was the rather splendid Public Library, on Queen’s Square. The other was just along Portland Street at the Ceredigion Museum.

 

The museum is located in an old Edwardian theatre, with a grand staircase and intact auditorium. Because it’s actually two buildings now knocked into one, getting from one floor to another was not as straightforward as you might think. Indeed, unravelling a piece of thread as you went might have been wise until you got the hang of the layout. 

(And, of course, as every good crime writer knows, the clew of thread—as given to Theseus by Ariadne to help guide him out of the labyrinth on Knossos after slaying the minotaur—gave rise to the modern word clue.)

 

But I digress.

 

I was fortunate enough to be invited to take part in the Festival, and appeared on a panel with fellow Murder Is Everywhere blogmate, Caro Ramsay. We were ably chaired by Sarah Ward, on the topic of Trade Secrets and Twisted Identities, in which Caro admitted she wrote her first crime story at about the age of four or five, which began with the words, ‘Emily was the first to die…’

 

Is it any wonder I really like this woman?

(l to r) Zoë Sharp, Caro Ramsay, Sarah Ward

The Festival was packed with interesting events, from the Dragon Parade along the promenade (dragon-based paraphernalia optional) to the murder mystery play that was performed during the interval in the Gala Quiz on Friday evening. There were several panels or workshops delivered solely in the Welsh language, and others that were bilingual.

 

The local branch of Waterstone’s, run by the delightful Chloe Tilson, was in charge of the book room, where they were happy to take the indie authors’ books on consignment, and made a point of getting all the stock copies they’d brought with them signed by attendees. Such a nice touch.

Zoë Sharp and Friend.
(Pic courtesy of Waterstones Aberystwyth)

Meanwhile, authors not yet published had an opportunity to pitch to agents, and there were online events in the run-up to the weekend. Even the local bars got into the spirit of things (pun intended.)

Altogether, it was fun, friendly, and very well organised. Who could ask for more than that?

 

Well, maybe a touch more sunshine…

 

CRIME CYMRU

Alis Hawkins

Chair of the Festival was the energetic and seemingly ever-cheerful Alis Hawkins, who was one of the founder members of CRIME CYMRU.

 

Back in 2016, she wanted to bring the crime writers of Wales together in a mutually supportive group. After discussions with fellow scribes Rosie Claverton and Matt Johnson, CRIME CYMRU was launched the following year.

 

Its remit was ‘to support crime writers with a real and present relationship with Wales; to contribute to the development of new Welsh crime-writing talent; and to promote Wales, contemporary Welsh culture and Welsh crime-writing in particular, to the wider world.’

 

Not all of the forty-plus published authors with full membership set their work in Wales. Some were born or live and work there, or have ties to Welsh universities or other cultural institutions. Those who can’t claim such close ties may be permitted to become Associate members.

 

I have my application in. Whether they accept a Great Uncle from Colwyn Bay as any kind of link remains to be seen…

 

The weekend was fascinating, but mine didn’t end with the very interesting Self Publishing Journey panel on Sunday morning. (Featuring David Penny and Graham H Miller, kept in line by GB (Gail) Williams.)

 

Portmeirion

I’d planned my route back to Derbyshire as a roundabout one. As I was so far west, it made sense to me to detour up the coast to Portmeirion on Sunday, before heading home again.

 

Clearly, great minds think alike here, as Caro was also to be found in that locale, along with fellow author Douglas Skelton. She had come prepared with props, all the better to illustrate her Blog Number 6 on the cult TV show of 1967/68—The Prisoner.

 

I was not so well-prepared. In fact, I had no idea that there was a convention catering to devotees of that show, who were everywhere, in brilliant costumes. The attendees were re-enacting the game of Human Chess from the episode ‘Checkmate’ when I arrived.

 

One could only assume it was of their own free will…

 

The Architect

Portmeirion was the brainchild of architect Sir Clough Williams-Ellis, a major figure in the development of Welsh architecture during the early twentieth century.

Sir Clough Williams-Ellis at Portmeirion in 1969

In 1925, he purchased the estate of Aber lâ, meaning ice estuary, as the site of his proposed ideal village, having been inspired by Portofino in Italy. Geographically, the estate at the mouth of the River Dwyryd had everything he was after. Steep cliffs overlooking a wide sandy estuary, old buildings surviving from the estate’s previous incarnation as a late 18^th-century foundry and boatyard, woods, and streams.

 

Williams-Ellis changed the name to Portmeirion. Port- from its location on the coast, just below the outstretched arm of Wales, and –meirion from the county of Meirionydd in which it lay.

His first task was to convert the house on the shore to a hotel, which opened for the Easter weekend in April 1926. The construction of the village was done in two stages. The most distinctive buildings, mostly influenced by the Arts & Crafts movement, were erected between 1925 and 1939. During this time, Williams-Ellis also bought the adjacent Victorian crenellated mansion, Castell Deudraeth, from the estate of his uncle.

 

Work was paused during the war years, then phase two began from 1954 to 1976, filling in the remaining structures in a more Palladian style. Williams-Ellis was noted for salvaging parts of other buildings for his project, and referred to Portmeirion as, “a home for fallen buildings.”

 

The last cottage to be built was The Tollgate, which was finished when Williams-Ellis was 93, in 1977. He died the following year, and the village was subsequently taken over by a charitable trust. It has always been a tourist destination. As well as the hotel, there are 13 cottages available to let on a self-catering basis.

 

Famous Visitors

Noël Coward wrote Blithe Spirit while staying in the Upper Fountain suite. HG Wells and George Bernard Shaw also visited, as did the Beatles. In fact, George Harrison spent his fiftieth birthday in Portmeirion.

 

Actors Gregory Peck and Ingrid Bergman stayed there, as did Frank Lloyd Wright. Numerous films, documentaries, and music videos have been filmed there—in addition to The Prisoner, of course.

 

Fun Facts

 

In no particular order:

 

Portmeirion Pottery was begun in 1961 by the daughter of Williams-Ellis, Susan, and her husband.

 

Williams-Ellis purchased and converted an old Porthmadog trading ketch which he moored alongside the quay—the Amis Reunis, which means Friends Reunited. It was used as a houseboat until it broke loose and became stranded on a shoal. After attempts to salvage the vessel failed, any parts that could be rescued were brought ashore and a stone boat was built into part of the quay instead.

 

The outdoor giant chess board was part of the set dressing for The Prisoner. A permanent one was added only in 2016.

 

In accordance with his wishes, twenty years after Williams-Ellis died and was cremated, some of his ashes were placed in a rocket and fired over the estuary at Portmeirion during a New Year's Eve firework display.

 

What a way to go!

 

This week’s Word of the Week is hiraeth, a Welsh word that means longing for home. It's similar to the English words homesickness or nostalgia and, like them, can be applied not just to home but also to an earlier time or a person. Hiraeth contains an extra dimension that what is missed may no longer exist and is therefore forever out of reach.

 

The Murder of PC Sharon Beshenivsky

Delayed Justice

Zoë Sharp

 

Listening to the news this week brought up the name of a murdered police officer I recalled from what seemed like many years ago, and prompted me to refresh my memory about the case.

 

The Crime

PC Sharon Beshenivsky was still a probationary constable with West Yorkshire Police when she was shot dead by armed robbers on the afternoon of November 18 2005. A former childminder, she had completed her police training only in February of that year.

 

PC Beshenivsky, along with her more experienced colleague, PC Teresa Milburn, had been just about to finish their shift when they responded to an attack alarm activated at a travel agency on Morley Street in Bradford.

 

There, they encountered a gang of three men—armed with a knife, a 9mm handgun, and a Mac 10 submachine gun. One of the robbers immediately shot both officers in the chest. PC Beshenivsky’s wound was fatal. PC Milburn, although severely injured, managed to press the panic button on her radio and remained conscious to give responding officers a description of the gunman.

 

PC Beshenivsky, who was 38 at the time of her death, left behind a husband, two stepchildren and three children. That day was her youngest daughter’s fourth birthday.

 

The Gang

The robbers had arrived at the scene in a convoy of three cars, and fled the same way. Unfortunately for them, Bradford City Centre had recently installed automatic number plate recognition technology, which played a major part in identifying the vehicles involved, and their owners.

 

A week later, police named Somali brothers, Yusaf Jama – only nineteen at the time – and Mustaf Jama as prime suspects, along with Muzzaker Imtiaz Shah. Shah and Yusaf Jama were arrested within days. Mustaf Jama managed to flee the country on fake documents. It was rumoured at the time that he might have made his escape disguised in a burka. (Something he later denied.)

 

The gang was based in London, but had been lured up to Yorkshire by possibly false information that the travel agency had as much as £100,000 in cash on the premises. In the event, it was reported that they actually got away with little over £5000.

 

The Trial

In December 2006, Shah – identified by PC Milburn as the actual shooter – was convicted of murder, robbery, and firearms offences. He was sentenced to Life imprisonment with a minimum term of 35 years. Despite not actually pulling the trigger, Yusaf Jama was also convicted of the same offences, and received the same sentence.

 

Both men later had additional time added to their sentences for other crimes which came to light – firearms offences and conspiracy to rape. They were also involved in an incident in prison in which another prisoner was stabbed.

 

Cleared of murder, but found guilty of a range of crimes, including manslaughter, robbery, and firearms offences, were three men who served as getaway drivers and lookouts. For these crimes, they received sentences anywhere from eight years to Life.

 

The Fugitives

Mustaf Jama fled to Somalia, where his father was allegedly a local warlord. This might be considered ironic, as Mustaf Jama had avoided being deported to the African country only six months earlier, after finishing a sentence for driving offences, robbery, and affray.

 

Somalia had no diplomatic ties to the UK. Nevertheless, when Mustaf Jama was given ‘most wanted’ status, a deal was struck between the Somali government and the British Foreign Office and Home Office. Mustaf Jama’s vehicle was ambushed in the desert by local militiamen. He was snatched, flown to Dubai via private plane, and then on to the UK. The day after his arrival, he was taken into custody at a police station in Leeds, and charged with the murder of PC Beshenivsky.

 

It took a further two years to bring him to trial, in July 2009. He was found guilty and sentenced, like his co-conspirators, to Life with a minimum term of 35 years.

 

By this time, the police were also looking for another man, Piran Ditta Khan. Khan was thought to be the mastermind behind the robbery, but had fled to Pakistan. A lengthy battle followed to force his return to the UK to stand trial.

 

In January 2020, Khan was arrested by the Pakistan police. And last week he was flown back to the UK and formally charged with the murder of PC Beshenivsky. Other charges included robbery and firearms offences.

 

The Aftermath

When she died in 2005, PC Sharon Beshenivsky became the seventh female UK police officer killed in service, and the first since PC Yvonne Fletcher in 1984. PC Fletcher died after a shot was fired from the Libyan Embassy while she was stationed outside monitoring a demonstration against then-Libyan leader, Muammar Gaddafi.

 

Efforts were made by a right-wing organisation to classify the murder of PC Beshenivsky as a racially motivated crime. Opponents pointed out that there was no obvious racial motive, and that the robbers were as likely to have fired upon any responding police officers, regardless of their ethnicity.

 

In January 2020, PC Sharon Beshenivsky’s daughter, Lydia – by then eighteen, told an interview with the Daily Mail that she intended to join the mounted section of the police service. I have not been able to verify whether in fact she has done this or not.

 

(For once, Mrs Google has failed me!)

 

This week’s Word of the Week is quincunx, meaning an arrangement of five objects, with four of them forming the corners of a square or rectangle, and the fifth in the centre, as in the spots on a dice or a playing card.

 

April 22 2023: Zoë Sharp will be appearing with Caro Ramsay and Sarah Ward at Ceredigion Museum in Aberystwyth as part of the Gŵyl Crime Cymru Festival. Their panel will be Event 6: Trade Secrets, 10:15 – 11:15 on Saturday, April 22 2023. “Writing a long series has its own difficulties, as does writing under two names in two different directions. How do you keep track? What are the things you know from your other lives that you bring to your writing? Learn a few trade secrets from three of the best. Panellists: Caro Ramsay, Zoë Sharp. Chair: Sarah Ward. Close Up Reader: Nigel Williams.”

 

Hot Off the Press

May 02 2023: A quick plug for John Lawton’s latest Joe Wilderness espionage thriller, Moscow Exile. Lawton will be launching the fourth novel with his thief-turned-reluctant spy in the lead role, at The Mysterious Bookshop, 58 Warren Street, New York, NY 10007 next mont. He will be in conversation with fellow author Mark Ellis, who is celebrating the upcoming publication of his latest DCI Frank Merlin wartime thriller, Dead In The Water.

 

Moscow Exile

‘Charlotte is a British expatriate who has recently settled in Washington, D.C. with her second husband, but enviable dinner parties aren't the only thing she is planning. Meanwhile, Charlie Leigh-Hunt has been posted to Washington as a replacement for Guy Burgess, last seen disappearing around the corner and into the Soviet Union. Charlie is surprised to cross paths with Charlotte, an old flame of his, who, thanks to her gossipy parties, has a packed pocketbook full of secrets she is eager to share.

 

‘Two decades later, in 1969, Joe Wilderness is stuck on the wrong side of the Iron Curtain, held captive by the KGB, a chip in a game way above his pay grade – but his old friends Frank and Eddie are going to try to spring him out of the toughest prison in the world. All roads lead back to Berlin, and to the famous Bridge of Spies...

 

‘Featuring crackling dialogue and brilliantly plotted Cold War intrigue, Moscow Exile is a gripping thriller populated by larger-than-life personalities in a Cold War plot that feels strangely in tune with our present.’