The Waltham Black Act

Writing historical mystery is a different kind of skill, I’ve found. You have to do the research, then transmit that research to the reader without being boring, and make it all work as if it’s the normal way of going on. In the brutal eighteenth century, when you could be hanged for stealing a penny loaf, it’s hard not to apply modern judgments to the crimes, and to add a purely twenty first century perspective.
In the Georgian era, the law worked very differently to the way it does now. That’s what you get for having an unwritten constitution. It evolves, and there are very few Acts of Parliament that signal a drastic change from what went before. Usually, they develop bit by bit.
However, in 1723 a law did change things up. It was called the Waltham Black Act.
The first Prime Minister (itself a term intended to be derogatory, but then got turned around to describe the position), Robert Walpole instituted it. It was primarily intended to counter one of the three scourges of the eighteenth century, poaching. When property was the basis of power and most wealth was made from crops and livestock, before the industrial revolution kicked in, poaching was a crime that hit right at the heart of society. If I called it “rustling,” you’d get a better idea of what the poaching gangs were doing. Not purloining a few rabbits from the squire’s land, but stealing flocks of sheep, prime beef herds and key breeding stock.
Land was protected by a complicated network of sometimes contradictory laws, and confusion led to key criminals escaping lightly. The Waltham Black Act was intended to do away with all those, and institute one clear law to replace them. But in the process, it added 50 crimes to the capital roster. 50 more crimes a person could be hanged for. And they were. Poaching, it turned out, was only the excuse used to tighten the law and make what came to be known as “The Bloody Code.”
It swung power decisively to the ruling class, and formed the basis of what came to be the eighteenth century oligarchy. Owners of large estates had massive powers that went well beyond their boundaries. The poor and smallholders, already crippled by Enclosures (the enclosing of common land) were forced down even more, a state that was to last for the next hundred years.
Why Black? We’ll not, as you might think, because it was a terrible idea, but because poachers blackened their faces in order to remain unseen at night when they did their work.
As a result, a child could be hanged for stealing goods worth more than a shilling. This also gave a magistrate certain power, because he (and it was always he) had the power to value the goods. It wasn’t what the shopkeeper or landowner priced the goods at, it was what the court considered they were worth. That led to corruption, but it also gave the courts a loophole for leniency.
People hanged or punished under this law were known as “blacks,” which can be confusing to the researcher!
The Black Act was finally taken off the law books by Robert Peel. But by then its philosophy was outdated. Power was rapidly moving to the newly enfranchised middle class, who didn’t own land to breed cattle, but to dig for coal. Towns were shooting up, and the rural poor were moving there to work in factories. For the first time in history, a police force was established. And the new age was beginning.

The History of the Passport

These days, if you want to cross an international border, you need a passport. Possibly a visa, too, but most definitely a passport. Without that little book bearing a photo of you on your worst day, plus the details of your birth and so on, you can’t go anywhere outside your own country.

For a recent book, I wanted my hero to go from Britain to Italy in the eighteenth century. They didn’t have compulsory passports then, so how did the government know where to find people? How did a government track down a murderer if he fled his home country for another one?

The answer is, they didn’t.

However, passports are not a completely new option. While everyone didn’t have to have one, there were certain ways of ensuring safe passage. Passports were less a way of keeping tabs on a person, more of a way for the person to ensure their personal safety.

Letters of safe conduct could be obtained, and the higher the level, the better. There was no obligation to obey them, but if a King wrote a letter saying “This person is important,” then people usually took notice. And they would contact other people, to make sure the person bearing the letter was the right one, and the letter wasn’t forged. That was what seals were for.

In the middle ages, even traveling from city to city was a big undertaking. Most cities were surrounded by walls, and admittance was through designated gates. Without the right letters, or permissions, a person wouldn’t get in, or out again.

By the end of the sixteenth century, countries had gained pre-eminence over cities and city-states. But borders were still flexible, and countries like Italy and Germany were more a collection of states than bona fide countries. Passports were still not standardised. But they were understood, and a person with a letter of conduct was more likely to pass unhindered than an ordinary traveller. The word “passport” dates from the early sixteenth century, and more people were traveling and requiring safe conduct letters. From then until 1794, the Privy Council issued the letters. After that, it was the State Department.

They were still not compulsory, but by this time highly desirable.

People traveling would try to obtain a variety of letters, including letters of introduction. This would usually be from someone who the recipient knew personally. The system really began to come under strain with the advent of the railways. A person could race across a country in a day or two, and pass through to another before the credentials could be checked. More people took advantage of the travel system. During the last forty years of the nineteenth century, passports were abolished. Rather than keep up with modern technology, countries threw in the towel!

But when the First World War arrived, the need for passports emerged again. It was either that or let spies wander around whichever parts of the world they wanted to. The passport was back, and this time to stay.

In 1920, the first blue British passport arrived. It contained verbal descriptions as well as a photo, which must have been a bit traumatic! It only lasted for two years, unlike the present one that lasts for ten.

The passport has been continually updated, and at the time of writing, the current British passport is a red European one. I’m rushing to renew mine before it becomes a British blue one again! It does have stamps from the US, although many countries don’t bother with the stamp any more, which has taken even more of the glamour out of travel. Now, travel is a mundane, tedious experience if you’re lucky, and a traumatic one if you’re not! But the days of glamorous travel are long gone.

In the US, only a third of the populace owns a transport, which is exceedingly strange to this European, but there is a lot of the USA to see!

Strictly Come Murder!

Strictly Come Dancing is back!

That might not have much to do with suspense, but I’m working on a murder committed during a TV reality show, so I’ve been watching more than a few. However, I’ve always watched Strictly. In the US, it’s Dancing With The Stars. I’ve seen both, and while DWTS is enjoyable, Strictly is my jam.

It has two of the same judges, who commute between continents when the program is on. Len and Bruno are common to both, which makes comparisons even more interesting.

Finally, I worked out why. Yesterday’s opening episode of Strictly started with a totally ridiculous and over-the-top video, then a pro dance. It’s much cleverer than it seems.

DWTS probably has a larger budget, and it’s as flashy as a program about ballroom dancing should be. Strictly must have a pretty lavish budget, too, but there is an edge of tackiness too, of make-do and throwing things together. They could easily get rid of that, but they’re clever not to.

Strictly Come Dancing, the title, is a combination of Come Dancing, the venerable ballroom dance competition that ran for decades, very staid and proper, and Strictly Ballroom, the deliciously irreverent comedy by Baz Luhrmann, which showed how ballroom dancing could change lives if it was a living entity instead of frozen in time.

Strictly Come Dancing is a good mixture of the two. The contestants and professionals take their dances seriously, but it’s something else that makes it such a great hit, something its American counterpart lacks.

While DWTS has fun, it is primarily a show about dancing and people striving for it. It takes itself seriously. Whereas, with the more tongue-in-cheek Strictly, there’s a huge dollop of irony.

From the video last night to the end of the show, it was even more prominent than it used to be in the days of Brucie. He had that corny humour, and that wink that gave you the show’s message.

That message?

The show is saying, “You know you’re better than this, but admit it, you love it. And we love it too. Let’s mutually let out our inner tackiness and admit that bad taste is fun.” It’s the kitsch show, but we all know it is, so that’s okay. Irony. Brucie (Bruce Forsyth) made a living out of live TV shows. He could handle anything, could Brucie, and he has exactly the right mixture of knowingness and don’t-care to push the show past the X-Factor and into National Treasure territory.

X-Factor takes itself seriously. It promises fame and fortune, and sometimes delivers. But the whole process is so damned dreary, and downright cruel. It’s okay if there’s nothing else on, but when Strictly starts, X-Factor loses, because Strictly is sheer Saturday night fun. There’s no pressure, no anxiety, except wondering if your favourite has survived another week. But even if they haven’t, they’ll be okay. That’s why they can hook celebrities.

And talking of celebrities, they are strictly not A list. A-listers don’t have 6 weeks or more to devote to one project, and Strictly demands constant practice until you’re voted out. It’s also why the can’t-dance candidates succeed for so long. It’s the boring ones that get eliminated first.

So what if that frothy, sequinned bundle of fun that is Strictly is disrupted by a murder?

It would burst the bubble, spoil the fun. It would have to be handled carefully, maybe treated with the same tongue-in-cheek as the program, or maybe the opposite, a black, horrible crime that tears the premise of the program wide open. A murder in the X-Factor would be more straightforward to write about. The jealousy and life-or-death stakes they promote would work for that. In the Big Brother house? A country house mystery brought up to date.

Can I get that across in a story? I don’t know, but I’m going to have fun trying!

What reality show would you pick?

Unravelling historical mysteries

In a book out later this month, I unravel a mystery of my own creation, but I couldn't put it in a vacuum. I love historical mysteries. Who was the Man In The Iron Mask? Who shot JFK? And why did women wear clothes guaranteed to hamper them?
The glib answer to the last question is “fashion.” But that doesn’t really explain anything. It’s not trying to attract a male, either. Who in their right mind would be turned on by a woman wearing an Elizabethan wheel farthingale?
I like Quentin Bell’s explanation. He was the first person to go below the surface and work out what was going on. He was helped by the development of psychology, which by his time was gripping the world. He was also helped by being a member of the Bloomsbury Group, which kept its collective mind open to explorations of every kind.
In his “On Human Finery,” (http://www.amazon.com/Human-Finery-Quentin-Bell/dp/0749000945?ie=UTF8&*Version*=1&*entries*=0)Bell explains the different kinds of reasons for dressing in preposterous clothing. In other words, why not dress in dark-coloured loose pants and T-shirt every day?
Here’s why:

1. Conspicuous consumption. This one is straightforward enough. It’s the desire to display your wealth and status on your body, to say without words how rich and superior you are. Or something subtler, such as wearing totally plain clothes, but dressing your dependants, your servant or your child, for instance, in glory. Think of a Yeoman of the Guard, whose uniform is gold bullion, or a child in fancy duds, or even a footman in livery.


2. Conspicuous Leisure. To wear something that you can’t possibly work in, thus displaying your status. Things like long, white gloves, over-tight corsets and one-shouldered capes.

3. Conspicuous waste. Wearing something that you can afford to throw away. Elaborately embroidered clothes that can’t be cleaned, the ubiquitous white gloves, clothes that drag on the ground.

4. Conspicuous outrage. Clothes that are guaranteed to upset someone, drawing attention without a vulgar display of wealth. This can be something that shows a part of the body usually hidden, like a topless bikini or a codpiece. It shows the wearer’s contempt for the rest of society, and his or her disdain for the norm. This is the aspect that drives fashion, because as soon as the outrage becomes acceptable, like miniskirts or revealing the bosom, the wearer will move on to something new.

The first three were originally outlined by Veblen, but the fourth is Bell’s. It’s a stroke of genius, explaining the others and itself even more. Of course there’s a lot more to it, but I’d strongly advise getting the book and finding out for yourself!
There, another historical mystery solved!
That’s why research is so important to what I do. I need to find out why and how, not just what. So no aristocrat ever became a pirate. Why not? Why didn’t women declare their independence earlier? Why didn’t the Young Pretender continue on his victorious advance in the ‘forty-five and conquer London?
I do my best to find out. Sometimes there’s no definitive fashion. Other times, there’s a simple answer. But if I don’t understand these things, I can’t write believable history. I can’t take people back in time with me.

Lynne Connolly

http://lynneconnolly.com

What's Another Year?

It's hard to believe my first book was published way back in 2001. It doesn't seem that long! I've lost count of the ups and downs during that time, the successes and the not-so-goods. I won't say failure, because I've not had one of those, not completely. I've had books that have done really well, and books that haven't.
Looking back, yes, it's surprising. My first success was the Richard and Rose series. I planned it as a historical mystery series, with the hero and heroine as two quiet, unprepossessing minor aristocrats who solved country house mysteries.
It didn't quite turn out that way. Richard Strang turned out to be far from unprepossessing, and minor was not a description that suited him in any way at all! I wrote the series in the first person, with the same protagonists in each book, showing what happened before, and during their marriage. All those things were no-nos when I wrote the series, and yet they were a huge success for me.
And should I write paranormals? The prevailing wisdom was that you should stick to your genre, and yet the Department 57 series, about a group of Talents (vampires, shape-shifters, mermen) who worked as secret agents did so well I started a new series, STORM, which is being reissued next year.
Rock stars fighting for their women? Yup, Pure Wildfire and Nightstar.
Back to history, and I'm in the throes of writing two series. One is about the children of the Old Pretender (Bonnie Prince Charlie's father). They have a lot of history about them, with a big helping of romance. The first three books have all featured in the Amazon Top Ten.
I'm writing a series about the Roman gods and goddesses come back to life in the 18th century. That's another thing you're not supposed to do. Paranormal and historical aren't supposed to do well.
Now they tell me that vampires are dead. Darlings, vampires will never die. Not as long as I'm here to write about them!
I guess what I want to say is that new year resolutions and a structured career are good ideas, but phhht - who wants to do that when you can be having fun?
I did make an effort this year to structure my novels, but Things Happen and as I get to know my characters, it becomes clear that's not going to work out like I wanted it to. So yet again, I'm doing a plan, but I'm not counting on it happening.
Next year I'll probably look back and laugh. Just like I'm doing now.

Who was Jack the Ripper, and does it matter?

I was a bit stuck for a blog post, and then I thought - what about the greatest historical mystery of them all? Have they really discovered the true identity of Jack the Ripper?

I think they have, and to be honest, it wasn’t my favourite candidate. But it works, and it’s convincing enough for me. But I think a lot of folks have got it wrong. It wasn’t the identity of the killer, it wasn’t even the horrible nature of them. The reason the case became so notorious was because of something else.

People have gone nuts looking for the identity of the first documented serial killer, the first one to be classified as such, but if you start looking around the case, at the history behind it, the picture gets a lot clearer.

The Ripper murders took place in the 1880’s, a decade of change for the police force. The new-fangled idea of a civilian police force had come into society after Peel’s Act of Parliament in 1832, but the demands for one had started long before that. However, by the 1880’s, two pressures were starting to demand changes. The legal system had gone through huge changes. People were now locked away in large prisons as punishment, a new way of looking at correction procedures. The decade of reform in the 1870’s had changed the way society looked, and the way people viewed things. It was becoming obvious that the large, industrial conurbations required more vigorous policing than they had before.

Before the Ripper stalked the East End, other murder cases had seized the public imagination, but these were generally not of the gruesome kind. The Bartlett case, the Maybrick case (James Maybrick was another candidate for Jack the Ripper until his “diaries” confessing the crime were shown to be fakes) and the mystery of the Red House were domestic cases involving characters and social concerns. They had a story.

The Ripper case had nothing. Even the perpetrator was a mystery, and in all likelihood, if he was exposed, his name would have been unknown to most. The women who were savagely murdered were the lowest in society, the ones who barely survived by selling their bodies, and having sordid encounters in the streets.

But the extensive reporting, especially in the Police Gazette drew public attention to a series of murders that might have been swept under the carpet before. That’s the real mystery, and one I don’t have an answer to. Why those? Why not the other women who were found murdered in London, especially prostitutes?

I think it was probably an accumulation of events. The prominence the papers gave to the case was certainly one. Then there was the other novel element. Photography. The Ripper case was the first in which photography was an official part of the case, used to record the appearance of the women in the morgue. There was no thought to recording the scene that way, or the body as it was found--all that came later--but this was a real start to what would become a police science.

Although the photographs weren’t officially released at the time, they were known about, and it became obvious to the officials in the case that the camera was a vital tool in investigations.

Shortly after the Ripper case, fingerprints were collated and began to be used officially. It was a science in its infancy, but by the end of the nineteenth century, was becoming well incorporated into the investigative procedure.

One aspect of the Ripper case also pointed up a weakness in the policing of London. For one of the murders, another force was involved. The police connected with the case came from two areas, and they didn’t work together too well. After the case, a huge reform of the Metropolitan Police took place, paving the way for the modern policing era.

The Ripper case was probably the last one in which the only way to prove the perpetrator did the deed was to catch him red-handed. After that, the collection of evidence was improved until it became possible to prove beyond reasonable doubt who did the deed.

That’s why the case is important. It’s what it set in train, not the events themselves.

Oh, the identity? For me, the DNA evidence on the shawl owned by one of the victims tends to put the final touch on the murderer’s identity. Kosminski, a Polish immigrant, was in the right place at the right time, had the right kind of background, ie he fitted many of the profiling points associated with serial killers, and he had a certain skill at butchery, which would have enabled him to remove the kidney from one victim and the uterus from another in clean, straight sweeps of the knife.

But in truth, it doesn’t matter. Because the man who did it (most agree that it was a man) is long dead. It’s almost certain that he wasn’t anyone important, nobody famous or wealthy, and someone whose name means nothing to us, except when he was associated with the murders.

What happened afterwards is more interesting.

Lynne Connolly

http://lynneconnolly.com

http://lmconnolly.com

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History Mystery

My latest series, "The Emperors of London," contains a historical mystery. One that could have happened, and could have been kept secret. Because writing fiction is all about the “could”s, especially historical romance.

Each book has a different couple at its centre, but they can be read as standalones. I don’t want to give it all away, particularly since the mystery unfolds through the series, but it’s about Jacobites and Hanoverians. And a family feud, with separate mysteries at the centre of each.

As well as being romances, of course.

My fictional families, the Emperors of London (so called because of their outlandish names) and the Dankworths, are ranged against each other on either side of the Jacobite/Hanoverian fight. I set the stories in the 1750’s, when the fighting was underground and dirty. Anything could have happened in that time. The Jacobites could have won with subterfuge and spying what they’d lost on the battlefield at Culloden. Since they stood to win the ultimate prize—the British throne—the fighting became nasty.

So I inserted a bit more wickedness to stir the pot a bit, and the new series is about how it is resolved. Or at least, neutralised.

This is a world without instant news, without internet, or even where time is synchronised over distance. That didn’t come until the railway engine. It’s a world where the law is very different to the way it is today, when even adversarial trials are only just coming to be regarded as the way to judge someone. When magistrates had more power, the power to arrest and to have their favourites, where you could get off a charge by reading a section of the Bible. But only once. On the other hand, you could be hanged for stealing a loaf, or made a hero because you robbed people on the King’s highway, but you had a flamboyant personality.

However some things remain the same. The power of love, hate, and all the basic human emotions, for instance. And the love of gossip. Recently I picked up a few of them and read my way avidly through accounts of runaway brides, poor men turned into millionaires, and collectors of vast wealth who built houses just to put their treasures in. I don’t have to make much up after reading those.

There were persistent rumours all through the 1750’s of the Young Pretender’s visits to London. The authorities decided to keep an eye on him, instead of arresting him and making a martyr of him, although his supporters made great play of calling the Prince a hero, and comparing him to the German buffoons, who were in fact making a good job of monarchy. But what if the Pretender was looking for something in particular? And what if two other factions were hunting it down, too? Who would find it first, and what would they do with it when they did?

You’ll just have to read the books to find out!

“Rogue in Red Velvet” is out on August 4^th from Kensington Publishing and all good outlets.

http://www.kensingtonbooks.com/book.aspx/30512

http://www.amazon.com/Rogue-Red-Velvet-Emperors-London-ebook/dp/B00KYUNEEU

http://lynneconnolly.com/rogue-in-red-velvet/

Murder at Christmas

It’s almost as Christmassy as turkey and Santa – the Christmas murder mystery. An old country house with lots of visitors, a celebration, a scream in the night and Hercule Poirot, or Albert Campion or Inspector Wexford on hand to solve it. No way of contacting the outer world, but there’s a murderer on the loose, and who knows who is going to be next?

Delicious.

These days that kind of murder mystery, aka the Christmas whodunit, isn’t around as much as it used to be, but it could be. After all, we still get romance stories where the participants are snowed in—one of my favourite romance tropes, if done properly. Snuggling by the fire on a fur rug wrapped in a comforter purloined off the nearest bed, toasting marshmallows—perhaps not the last bit if they’re naked.

I’ve never had a country house Christmas, with or without a murder. Maybe I should put it on my list. I won’t call it a bucket list. I just have a list of things I want to do. Next year I get to fulfil another one when I go to New Orleans. I’m going to the RT Convention, but I’m also going to have a wonderful touristy time with a friend from Glasgow.

But back to the country house. They are beautiful at any time of the year, and rightly so, because they were designed that way. There are lots of nooks and crannies, plenty of places to get up to nefarious activities, like, oh, a bit of murder. Or a bit of clandestine loving. But in reality, the larger country houses these days aren’t really isolated. They have helipads, satellite systems and lots of staff. These days, unless it’s royalty, the staff are more involved in looking after the house and its treasures than they are the occupants, but with most of the treasure houses open to the public, there are fewer opportunities to get snowed in. Blenheim, Chatsworth, Longleat—these places are businesses. Mind you, a murder at Longleat would be interesting, because it’s a wildlife park with lions and giraffes and elephants. A wonderful place for a murder, but only a fictional one, you understand!

However there are lots and lots of private houses of a good size, places that could conceivably be cut off for a few days. More likely in the early months of the new year than Christmas, but a bit of poetic licence and some unseasonable weather would take care of that.

Makes me want to go and write one. A bit too late for this year, but maybe I should think about next?

Prejudice and the vampire

I hate prejudice. Sometimes it’s mild, as in “I hate horror films.” Sometimes it’s harmful and frightening, as in the Ku Klux Klan or the way women were pigeonholed as breeders and stupid for so long. It’s often characterised by either “always” or “never,” as in "Those people never do that," or "those people always do that." It’s usually an unthinking remark that, when you think about it, means nothing, but it can become a rallying call. Various objects of hate have existed, and some of the worst consist of ethnic groups. I really hate those.

I wanted to write about it, but I didn’t want to be judgmental or preachy. That kind of work doesn’t do it for me, so why should it for anyone else?

So I thought, “What if I used a race that doesn’t exist? You know, like vampires or shape-shifters, or people with a special psychic gift?”

And so my first paranormal series, the Department 57 series, was born.

Of course it morphed into much more than that. Secret agents fighting against twin enemies—the PHR, an organisation that sees vampires, shape-shifters, or anyone they consider “different” to be genetic malformations, and band together to murder them. And an equally secret, but more loose arrangement of scientists and wealthy people who want to exploit Talents for their own ends. They want longer life, strength and beauty, but they want to steal it, by experimenting on captured Talents to “extract” what they want.

There is also another way for Talents to elude this, but that’s for another series!

That was the core. In the Department 57 series, the Talents are living secretly in society. Nobody knows they exist outside myth. Except the PHR and the experimenters. It was a heady premise and so far it’s taken me through several more series—STORM, Pure Wildfire and now a new series which will make its debut later this year.

Department 57 was the first, however, and at twelve books, I’m resting it. There are still many characters who need writing about, so the word “rest” means just that. I’m not killing the series, it hasn’t finished, I’m just working on new outlines and stories. But I can’t do everything, and I’ve always had more ideas than time to develop them. I have a vampire police procedural series in development and I’ve written the first book of a new series featuring some of my favourite things, history and paranormal romance.

As well as the new series, which is currently called “The Thorndykes.”

So how vulnerable are my Talents? Because they had to invent kryptonite for Superman, he was just too invulnerable without it. I set out to answer questions like, “if they’re so strong and long-living, why haven’t they taken over the world?” and “what makes ordinary humans special?”

Building the world was a challenge, but it has taken a lot of testing and it still works, so I’m proud of what I’ve achieved. Now I’m taking a version of the world back in time for Samhain (see what I mean about new series?) so I’m mixing up that aspect, as well, and including some of my favourite myths.

So, romantic suspense. The stories in the Department 57 and STORM series are secret agents tales. The difference is that in Department 57, they’re living secretly, and in STORM they’re “out,” facing a bunch of new problems, learning to live together. I’ve read stories that have paranormal beings living in society, set in a future or alternate world, but I wanted to know how it would happen now, how it would affect society as we see it today. And to take it at the cusp, when Talents have only just revealed themselves. All they want is to live in parallel with everyone else, but there are much fewer of them, and they have the might of politics and prejudice to face. There are so many legends about them, you could choose to believe what you wanted, or believe what someone else told you instead of the evidence in front of your own eyes.

Would you like a vampire living next door?

What is romantic suspense?

When you write a novel, you’re always hearing about “conflict.” Although that doesn’t mean a knock-down fight, that’s what it often amounts to. Start your book with a bang, hook ‘em in.

But conflict doesn’t always mean fighting. It means the inner struggle and the outer. One of the biggest challenges is to balance all the conflicts, because too much and the reader will get breathless—not in a good way.

Although I haven’t written any “romantic suspense” recently, I do tend to write books where there are things that belong in romantic suspense. I really don’t know where the line is drawn, I mean, I won a major romantic suspense award for “Harley Street,” a historical story featuring Richard and Rose. True, there was a murder in chapter one, and the couple spend the book discovering the murderer, and thus, other things about Richard’s past, but it’s never to my knowledge been shelved in that section.

In "Brutally Beautiful," my hero is an ex-gang leader, and he has some serious things to accomplish before he can save his princess and have his happy ending. Definitely erotic, but the suspense element is high. The villain is fairly obvious, but will they catch him or her in time?

My newest release, coming next month, is “Sixth Sense,” and again, I’m not sure where it belongs. Romance, I guess. It’s part of the Symbiotics series, but can be read alone and it starts with a real life experience. Yes, I did lie in an isolation room in a hospital once, wondering if I was about to lose my leg. It seems strange to anyone who doesn’t write, but I can almost see the authors reading this saying, “Yep, it all goes in to the writing pot.”

I never forgot the experience, and the memories remained vivid. The emergency didn’t last long and I still have two legs, thanks to the doctors at my local hospital, whose prompt action and careful diagnosis made sure I got better. But for the two days of the emergency, I was scared, and then resigned. Because, after all, what could I do? If it happened, it happened, and I was in the best place.

In the room next to me was a sailor, in quarantine after suffering a tropical disease. He was perfectly well, but he had to stay there until they said he wasn’t infectious any more. I couldn’t talk to him, we just exchanged a couple of sympathetic smiles.

So I put my heroine, Poppy, in the same situation. Well, you would, wouldn’t you? Her conflict is an internal one—how does she cope with this unexpected and terrifying thing? It happened to her as suddenly as it happened to me. Not an accident, an unexplained swelling of the leg, so much that it threatened to burst. Blood clot? Septic arthritis? I had no idea and neither did she.

Instead of a middle-aged sailor, I gave her a hot, wealthy geek to play with. One who has inner tensions of his own. He’s in the hospital recovering from cholera, contracted during an exotic holiday.

Oh, yes, and by chapter two, the plot has thickened. The external conflict appears. Her condition isn’t, like mine was, an unexplained occurrence. She’s being poisoned.

So there you have it. Is it romantic suspense? Some of the story is certainly spent hunting the perpetrator, but the majority is the love story between two unlikely people who meet by chance. Both are sexually naïve, being too busy and too shy to explore. They have satisfactory sex lives, but finally, together, they can play with the basket of toys that have been lying in Jim’s closet since he left his job in England.

So which is it, romantic suspense or erotic romance?