Story of a Novel: The Charter by Gillian E. Hamer

By Gillian E. Hamer

I’ve told the story of the birth - or maybe that should be the inception - of The Charter a few times now, and it means as much to me today as it did at the start of my writing career. This novel sums up everything I am passionate about. It stems from my love of history, adventure and tales told by local folks that fire up my imagination.

I can’t remember exactly how old I was when I first learned of the wreck of The Royal Charter off the coast of Anglesey in the great storm of 1859 claiming the loss of over eight hundred lives. But I think I was around eleven years old when the press were full of stories of gold bullion being recovered from the wreck by local divers after a winter storm, and an influx over several months the following summer of modern day treasure hunters.

One weekend, armed with a second hand metal detector, our family headed to a local beach, Red Wharf Bay and I can still remember the burst of excitement each time I found a penny in the sand – only to find out later that a relative had buried them for me to find!

The small Welsh island of Anglesey has been part of my life for as long as I can remember, and even now it still often surprises me with its beauty or stories of the past. I find Neolithic burial mounds I’ve not known existed, or, as happened on this latest New Year holiday, discovered a new beach I’ve never previously visited.

There are hundreds of shipwrecks around the Anglesey coast, some you can see at low tide or even visit in estuary mud banks. But there was something about the story of The Royal Charter that touched my soul. It could have been the mystery around the missing Australian gold, or the fact Charles Dickens was so moved by the disaster he visited and wrote about it in his novel The Uncommercial Traveller. Or it could have been the visits I made as a child to the old churchyard in Llanallgo Church, where many of the dead are buried, and there now stands the anchor from the wreck along with a memorial to the missing.

But when I sat down and started to write novels, there was always one story I would want to retell in my own style. And to this day I’m so proud to say that the prologue of this book managed to secure me two literary agents.

And so The Charter became, if not the first novel I wrote, the first I published in June 2012. The audio version has become one of my best sellers, and even today sales of the book remain steady and more popular than others in the U.S.

All my novels are set on and around Anglesey and the North Wales coast and I have notebooks of stories, ideas, local tales and research that I hope one day will make their way in books in their own right – but I doubt any will mean quite as much to me as The Charter.

Prologue

October 26 1859

How can it be?

I stand on the edge of a high cliff. Holding back hair that whips across my face, I shield my eyes and squint through the stinging wind. Lifeless bodies dash against the rocks beneath me.

The ship disappears beneath the surface, battered by one huge wave after another. Rain mixes with tears that burn my eyes, and I feel as if I have woken from a nightmare of such terror my whole world has become horribly distorted. I know the sea. I have lived with the ocean all my life. I have been raised to respect Mother Nature, and to underestimate at my peril the power of the ocean. But I have never witnessed such a storm as this.

How can it be?
I have no memory of reaching this cliff. The last thing I remember is being wrapped in mother’s arms on the rolling deck as my da strapped a belt around my waist.

“Women and children first,” he said. “Now, hush! You keep your hand on this belt; it’s all we own in the world, my angel. My precious angel. You keep it safe for Da. And you take good care of your mam. I’ll see you on the other side.”
Cold lips press into my cheek. Calloused palms cup my face for the merest of seconds. The other side of where? I want to ask. But he’s gone and the ship is lurching violently beneath my feet.

“Da! Help … help me!”

A sound like a gunshot rips through the air.

“Port anchor’s let go!” someone shouts. “Sweet Lord! Brace the yeards, lads, starboard won’t take the strain, else!”

I bury my head in my mother’s bosom; she wraps her shawl around me. The shrieking wind carries away the sounds of crying children, sobbing women, men barking orders. I cover my ears as strong hands lift me, push me towards the lifeboat. I grasp my mother’s hand tighter.

Bang!

"Starboard anchor’s gone! We’re heading for the rocks! Get Captain Taylor!”

Seconds later, a ripping noise shakes the whole ship. The wooden deck shudders, and the bow gives out a loud moan. The ship tilts and I lose my footing, screaming as I slide towards the inky blackness, pulled by the weight of the leather pockets about my waist.

Water engulfs me.
Coldness engulfs me.
Darkness engulfs me.

How can it be?
I watch from the cliff edge as a pale dawn breaks. No golden rising sun, no blue skies, no welcoming warmth – just a gradual fading of blackness into misty grey.

The Royal Charter – the steamship that has carried my family from Hobson’s Bay, Australia to a ‘better life’ in England – is still being pounded by the storm. With every massive wave that crashes over her, I expect the ship to disappear, but after each surge of the tide she reappears as if trapped by the jagged rocks and unable to find release.

Bodies pulled and tossed by the furious tide, pushed inland one minute and dragged back into the white foam the next. Men I’d seen issuing orders; women I’d spoken to; children I’d spent many hours with over the past weeks. I close my ears to the screams and cries that circle my head like squawking gulls.

I stand there for seconds, minutes, hours, days … I know not.

The spray of the ocean is on my face. I hear the roar in my ears. I taste the salt on my lips.

But I know it cannot be. I know this cannot be real.

The truth hits me. Bile fills my mouth; I double over and retch.

When I straighten, I stand in silence and calmness. The storm still rages all around me, but I am protected. As if in the eye of the hurricane, my own space is quiet and still.

The answer is suddenly clear.

My name is Angelina Stewart.

I am eleven years old.

And I am dead.

Story

The legend of The Royal Charter is almost as famous as the story of the dead girl who wanders the cliffs at Point Lynas – a victim of the 1859 shipwreck.
After more than a decade away, Sarah Morton must return to her childhood home in Anglesey to bury her father. It’s her chance to say goodbye, and good riddance, to her past.
Yet her father leaves her a legacy. A letter. And a safe full of documents about the ancient shipwreck.
The Royal Charter had been carrying gold. Huge amounts of it. And her father’s death suddenly looks like murder.
Determined to discover the truth, Sarah is dragged into a dangerous journey, discovering she and the girl on the cliffs have more in common than she could ever believe.
Set along the dramatic and dangerous Anglesey coastline, The Charter is a story of greed and forgiveness – when the treasures of the past evoke the crimes of today.

Amazon Reviews

5.0 out of 5 stars Story telling at it's best, 11 Jun 2012
By pigginhell
… If I was one of these obsessive types who orders my library in genre order, I would not know where to put this one. Crime novel? Ghost Story? Historic Account? Adventure Story? It doesn't matter. It all works beautifully together. The elements, as diverse as they seem, sometimes just fit, which of course is down to old fashioned, damn good story telling.

5.0 out of 5 stars Loved it..., 23 Sep 2012
By jaffareadstoo (England)
(TOP 500 REVIEWER) 
… It's not often that a book comes along which covers all your favourite genres in one fell swoop, but… The Charter is definitely one such book. Gillian Hamer writes with the passion of one who knows Anglesey well, and with great skill and imagination has turned this passion into a cracking good story.

 5.0 out of 5 stars Wild and spooky Wales, 19 July 2012
By Cathy "cathyagain"
… A GOOD story well told is always great to read, and this one cracks along with atmosphere. The setting is wild Wales, the coast of Anglesey.
Author Gillian Hamer has a way of gripping readers that goes beyond the twists of her plot. Her writing is superb. This is five-star stuff.

5.0 out of 5 stars Amazing Book With A Wonderful Blend Of Genres, 18 July 2012
By M. Stork (North Yorkshire, England)  
… the drama and beauty of the writer's descriptions of the rugged Welsh coast. The descriptions were so breathtakingly beautiful I felt I was there, and could hear the waves crashing against the shore. The characters are wonderful … the pace was perfect


If you'd like to read The Charter for yourself please CLICK HERE.

BOOK CLUB: A Rising Man by Abir Mukherjee

“Calcutta ... Our Star in the East. We’d built this city ... where previously there had only been jungle and thatch. We’d paid our price in blood and now, we proclaimed, Calcutta was a British city. Five minutes here would tell you it was no such thing. But that didn’t mean it was Indian.”

A Rising Man is grounded in a very specific time and place: Calcutta, 1919. This is a time, in the immediate aftermath of the First World War, when the “Quit India” movement was beginning to gain momentum. When calls for violent uprising were clashing with Gandhi’s approach of non-violent noncooperation. When the British were doubling down on their control with an oppressive set of laws called the Rowlatt Acts.

And in the midst of this, a senior British civil servant is found murdered in the ‘wrong’ part of town, with piece of paper stuffed in his mouth inscribed with a subversive slogan.

A Rising Man is the first book in a planned series and Mukerjee introduces two main characters: Captain Sam Wyndham, scarred from his experiences in the trenches and the death of his wife, and newly arrived in India and Detective Sergeant Surendranath Banerjee, known (because British tongues can’t manage anything too complicated) as Surrender-Not.

Here Gillian E Hamer, JJ Marsh and Catriona Troth talk about how the book affected them. Please join in in the comments section below!

How do these two characters work as a pairing? And what do you think of Mukherjee’s choice to make the outsider, Sam, his point of view character?

(GEH) I loved both characters! In a kind of Morse and Lewis vibe they worked off each other really well, with touches of humour and subtle sarcasm as they grew to know each other. Both were professional, and yet the reader knew early on that Banerjee was always going to be the unsung hero that saved the day. I think Wyndham knew that Banerjee was going to be a life-long partner, and that his local knowledge and expertise would always make an outsider’s job easier.

I think having Wyndham as the central character worked really well because we saw Calcutta through his eyes, and the highs and lows of the city resonated with us from his British perspective which we understand as Westerners ourselves.

(JJ) They are the classic team. Initially awkward, rubbing each other up the wrong way on occasion but both have much to offer and by dint of mutual respect - one assumed, one earned - they achieve a harmony and understanding I would happily read and enjoy as it develops.

Sam as POV is vital to my own appreciation of this book and this time. He's cognisant but not comfortable with the assumption of British superiority and challenges the status quo as who might have been a 'modern man' for the times.

(CT) I fell in love with both of these characters at first sight, and that affection has only deepened with reading the second book in the series (A Necessary Evil). Surrender-not's wry sense of humour and his patient tolerance of Sam is irresistible. He's one of those apparently secondary characters that actually give the book its heart and soul.

I think that Mukherjee's choice of Sam as the point of view character firstly gives him an 'all access pass' that simply wouldn't be possible for Surrender-not, given the restriction imposed by social hierarchies. Sam will also notice things that a local would simply take for granted, which gives us a eyes and ears in this unfamiliar world.

Mukherjee takes you down into the streets of Calcutta, from the stinking gullees of Black Town and the opium dens of Tiretta Bazaar, to the poky guesthouses for the itinerant British, where “the mores of Bengal were exported to the heat of Bengal,” the maroon-painted colonial neo-classic buildings of the Imperial civil service and the exclusive clubs of the rich.

Does Mukherjee successfully evoke Calcutta in the early 20th C for you? Any descriptions that particularly strike you?

(GEH) Yes, I thought the sense of location was excellent. I loved how we discovered the city through an outsider’s eyes as Wyndham was clearly unprepared for Calcutta. I thought it was a very clever tool to use Annie Grant as our guide to the city, and I particularly liked the descriptions of the glitz and glamour of the bars and hotels they frequented being next door to some of the poorest slums. The contrast is meant to shock us and it does. And yet her explanation of how these stark differences were normal to the locals and how the different colours and castes were treated within the complicated layers of society was well researched by the author but came across very naturally.

(JJ) 100%. Not that I'd know, but his sense of alienation, endangerment and sheer confusion at this indescribable city thrusts the reader right into the middle of the heat, traffic and politics. The opium den is a curtain drawn back on a twilight environment, but I found dinners at the boarding house grimly familiar and entertaining in a gritted-teeth fashion.

(CT) I thought the detail was extraordinary, without ever being heavy handed. I had a film playing in my head the whole time I was reading - in full technicolour and surround-sound.


This is a world of strict hierarchies, where everyone is kept firmly in their place. How did Mukherjee convey the manners of the period?

(GEH) I may have touched on this a little in the previous answer as Annie Grant was a very clever character as she saw things from both sides, and understood how these barriers worked. She was mixed race and gave a no nonsense account of how it had become accepted that English men brought over to run the country would consort with local women, but how the children of those unions were never fully accepted into society. The author showed through Annie his real feelings about society at that time, but didn’t shy away from the brutal manner of the period in either tone or language. We also saw the complex hierarchies of the police and military and who has the power and makes the decisions. I found this extremely interesting and liked the fact that the central characters did their best to stay true to their values.

(JJ) That is one element of the book which made me continually uncomfortable. The privilege and entitlement of the British colonials made my toes curl, even with the historical perspective. Mukherjee uses his brush lightly, embedding the appalling injustice and arrogance as part of the scenery. The caste system also has a walk-on role, but is still significant. I found the social strictures artificial and outdated yet evidently functional.

(CT) I agree with Jill that it can make for very uncomfortable reading - and so it should! To give just one excruciating example, Surrender-not  - a police sergeant - is forced to wait outside a club when Sam goes inside to interview someone because of a sign that declares ‘No dogs or Indians beyond this point.'

We tend to view this period from the point of view of the British Raj (through stories such as The Far Pavilions or The Jewel in the Crown). Was there anything about the different slant that Mukherjee brings to the story that surprised you or made you change your view of the British role in India?

(GEH) Yes, you’re right. Anything I’ve read or watched on TV has always been from an English perspective, along with a rallying cry for the might of the empire! Here the author makes you think about the real people of India, who watched as their city exploded into a kind of London suburb before their eyes. Some, like Banerjee, were able to find a foothold within the new regime, whereas many were simply left behind and forgotten. I think the treatment of these people by the British, particularly the police and military, was the most shocking for me.

(JJ) The articulate, wholly justified and determined rebellion against British rule from a complex and divided society is something I appreciated learning more about, especially the nuances of political and geographical reactions. Mukherjee keeps our attention on the plot narrative while providing an informed and opposite-of-airbrushed context. Learning by stealth.

(CT) I knew a little bit about the later stages of India's struggle for independence, but this early period was new territory for me. The sheer brutality used in suppressing the Free India movement  and the contempt shown for the legitimate aspirations of the Indian people was a sharp jolt to the conscience.


For all the seriousness of the underlying themes, A Rising Man is rich with humour (particularly in the relationship between Sam and Surrender-not). What was your favourite moment of humour?

(GEH)   I think it was the subtle sarcasm and the way Banerjee gently mocked Wyndham without him even sometimes being aware he was the centre of attention. Along with the mutual respect, I liked the fact there was often a glint in the eye of one or other of the characters. One moment that sticks in my mind was how Banerjee tried to protect his boss when they were forced to visit the local brothel in the course of their enquiries.

(JJ) Sam and Surrender-Not have so many whipsmart interactions but the one that stuck with me is when Surrender-Not explains his nickname. It's a moment which encapsulates the whole book for me. Intelligence, underestimation, gentle criticism, humour and yet still the nickname sticks.

(CT) There is such a warm humour in the interaction between Sam and Surrender-not that it's hard to pick out individual moments. Also, it's a while since I read A Rising Man, and it was a library copy, so I can't refer back! I do know that my absolutely favourite interaction between Sam and Surrender-not came in A Necessary Evil. (You can read about it in my interview with Abir Mukherjee.)


Is Mukerjee successful in blending the Crime and Historical Fiction genres? Is Crime Fiction a good way of exploring a less-well-known time and place like this?

(GEH) I thought it was a perfect blend to be honest, but then I am a fan of mixed genre books – particularly crime and historical which I’ve written myself. You have the excitement of the murder enquiry, and yet learn so much about the period, and in this case the country, where the story is located. It adds another level of interest for me, as I love reading both genres anyway. This is the first book I’ve read in the series, or by this author in fact, but I’m already looking forward to rejoining Sam and Banerjee on another case in the future.

(JJ) This blend is a new one for me and I confess I tend to study periods of history and politics without the distraction of narrative. However, I found this book a compelling read for the tension of plot and drama, whilst absorbing the hintergrund as think-about-that-later. That said, the time and place, not to mention characters, have stuck in my mind far more powerfully than the story. I'll be reading much more Mukherjee in future.

(CT) I think it works extremely well. What better way to examine any society than through the often cynical eyes of a policemen? And having the main plot of the book revolve around solving a crime distracts us from the fact that we are actually absorbing a fascinating history lesson!

The Beauty of a Boxset

As the nights draw in, curl up in front of the fire and dive into a boxset. Binge-reading is good for your health, mind and brain, thus heartily recommended by all great authors.

Here are two crime series and two historical fiction sets for you to devour. Plus there's more where they came from ...

The Gold Detectives

By Gillian E. Hamer

Includes the first three crime novels of the series in one handy boxset.

Encounter the dark underbelly of North Wales and the island of Anglesey - featuring DI Amanda Gold and her team.


What readers think:

If you like Ian Rankin, Val McDermid, Ann Cleeves or Peter May you’re seriously going to love Amanda Gold and her team.

I've become addicted to Ms Hamer's books! After thoroughly enjoying the first in this series, I read her other books before coming back to the Gold Detective books. The characters are complex, with their strengths, foibles and personal problems making for a realistic -though gruesome! - story. As usual, the body count is high, and there's some painful detail, but it kept me hooked to the end. And what an ending! 

Hamer does something quite special with her writing. She manages to combine glorious descriptions of Anglesey with quite gruesome murders. These combined with a pacy narrative, make her novels a compelling read indeed. 

The Beatrice Stubbs Series 

By JJ Marsh

Meet Beatrice Stubbs, your new favourite detective.


For lovers of intelligent crime fiction, three heart-racing adventures through Europe
Beatrice Stubbs: detective inspector, metaphor mixer and stubborn survivor.

What readers think:

For those who like their crime with a lighter, less gruesome touch. - The Bookseller

If you've not yet read a Beatrice Stubbs book, I envy you. What a treat you have in store. - The Bagster

My favourite thriller / procedural novel type has a strong female lead. One that is convincingly human and real, who isn’t the classic maverick detective, but works as a cog in a team, supporting her colleagues, just like in real life. Oh, and she needs to have some flaws. I need them to be written honestly, with interactions, opinions and emotions that echo people I know. Beatrice has all this in spades. - Dawn Gill

Overlord 

By Jane Dixon Smith

My name is Zabdas: once a slave; now a warrior, grandfather and servant. I call Syria home. 

I shall tell you the story of my Zenobia: Warrior Queen of Palmyra, Protector of the East, Conqueror of Desert Lands …

What readers think:

JD Smith's wonderful characterisation and meticulous research paints a vivid and dramatic picture of Syria in the 3rd Century AD at a time when Rome is disintegrating under the weight of its own corruption. The early years of Zenobia, one of the great enigmatic figures of history, are seen through the eyes of her cousin Zabdas, a slave who becomes a general. Zabdas is the perfect narrator and his story follows Zenobia from clever, precocious young girl to imperious manipulator of kings and emperors, from the desert kingdom of Palmyra to Rome and back. Full of passion, intrigue and drama it draws the reader in and holds them to the very last page.
Douglas Jackson, author of Caligula

Syria's Boudica [Boadicea], self-styled Cleopatra, and real-life Daenerys Targaryen.

Zenobia, Queen of Palymra, can now take her place beside a couple of other picturesque and photogenic fictional queens - Danerys and Maergery from Game of Thrones. The difference is, Zenobia really existed.

Historical Fiction at its best.

The Bone Angel Trilogy

By Liza Perrat

Three standalone stories exploring the tragedies and triumphs of a French village family of midwife-healers during the French Revolution (Spirit of Lost Angels), WW2 Nazi-occupied France (Wolfsangel) and the 1348 Black Plague (Blood Rose Angel) in one boxset.

What readers think:

Olga Núñez Miret, author/translator (English/Spanish), psychiatrist, book reviewer:
 … a must for lovers of historical and women’s fiction. Beautifully written, carefully researched, and emotionally charged, the three books are connected by an amulet
and the female legacy it represents … adventures of strong, brave, and
determined women who will pull at your heartstrings.

Terry Tyler, author: An intricately researched and beautifully written series that artfully shows how the threads of the past link generations together.

C. P. Lesley, author of The Golden Lynx and other novels: Three compelling heroines linked by a bone angel with a mystical past—a French village struggling with revolution, world war, and Black Death. Follow Victoire, Céleste, and Héloïse as each undertakes a richly imagined, emotionally complex journey toward a definition of womanhood that is uniquely her own. This trilogy--on my list of Hidden Gems--is one not to be missed.

Josie Barton, Book Blogger at JaffaReadsToo: … grips your imagination from the very beginning and the momentum doesn’t stop until all the stories are completed.

Cathy Ryan, Book Blogger at Between the Lines: … a sweeping saga following the fortunes of three strong women bound together by a bone angel talisman, passed down through the generations. Fascinating, moving and realistic - a must for lovers of historical fiction.

BOOKCLUB: Dark Places by Gillian Flynn

This month on the Triskele Book Club, we're discussing Dark Places, by Gillian Flynn

About the book:

Libby Day was just seven years old when her older brother massacred her family while she hid. Her evidence helped put him away. Ever since then she has been drifting, surviving for over 20 years on the proceeds of the 'Libby Day fund'. But now the money is running out and Libby is desperate. When she is offered $500 to do a guest appearance, she feels she has to accept. But this is no ordinary gathering. The Kill Club is a group of true-crime obsessives who share information on notorious murders, and they think her brother Ben is innocent.

Ben was a social misfit, ground down by the small-town farming community in which he lived. But he did have a girlfriend - a brooding heavy metal fan called Diondra. Through her, Ben became involved with drugs and the dark arts. When the town suddenly turned against him, his thoughts turned black. But was he capable of murder? Libby must delve into her family's past to uncover the truth - no matter how painful...

As Libby’s search takes her from shabby Missouri strip clubs to abandoned Oklahoma tourist towns, the narrative flashes back to January 2, 1985. The events of that day are relayed through the eyes of Libby’s doomed family members—including Ben, a loner whose rage over his shiftless father and their failing farm have driven him into a disturbing friendship with the new girl in town. Piece by piece, the unimaginable truth emerges, and Libby finds herself right back where she started—on the run from a killer.

Discussion (Liza Perrat, Gillian Hamer, JJ Marsh):

Why do you think the author, Gillian Flynn, set Dark Places on a farm?

(LP): the particular farm on which this story is set is rundown, bleak and isolated, just like many of the characters. This setting reflects the general dark, macabre ambience that runs through the whole story.

(GEH): The farm the author describes here isn't one of bouncing lambs and clucking hens, it's a bleak, rundown place that the family are struggling to keep afloat. I think the sense of loss and despair in the story are echoed in the settings, a very clever move by the author as it really adds to the atmosphere.

(JJ): For me, it symbolises the failure of the old ways. A farm means exposure to the harsh truth of climate change, unpredictable weather, unsustainable debt and the inability to rely on free labour, such as your kids. Additionally, it's remote and distanced from the town and its people.

The novel’s protagonist, Libby Day is a self-loathing liar, manipulator, kleptomaniac, and opportunist. Do you think the author intended to make her unlikeable? And were you able to empathize with her on any level?

(LP): Libby’s personality was shaped by the family she was born into, then the terrible tragedy that befell her at such an early age. For that alone, the reader can empathise with her. And yes, I do think the author intended to portray Libby as unlikeable. We see that right from the opening line: 'I have a meanness inside me, real as an organ.' But I believe that is one of the author’s great talents; that she is able to render such an unpleasant character likeable and someone you come to root for as the story progresses.

(GEH): I didn't really grow to like the character, but I did feel empathy for her situation. To have lost her mother and sisters in such a brutal way, and to have been witness to the event, would scar even the strongest person. I also appreciated the fact that Libby recognised her own flaws and made no secret of them. She wanted to always be a better person but lived under no illusion it would actually ever happen. I think it's a brave call from the author to give the lead of the novel to this character but in my opinion it worked well.

(JJ): She reminds me of a turtle. There's a carapace born of hurt, formed by kindly sympathy around an immature, vulnerable interior. "I was raised feral". There's also laziness, pessimism, greed and judgement. She gives herself a free pass "because of what happened" but makes no effort to grow, come to terms, or make amends to those who wanted to help. She is incredibly annoying at times, which is what makes her an intriguing character. I didn't like her but she certainly interested me.

Why has Libby ignored Jim Jeffreys’ advice to earn an income for so many years? Why do you think she did that?

(LP): I think Libby was convinced society and the monetary gifts from strangers were her dues, as payment for her ordeal and the hard life she made for herself, because of the tragedy. As if society had to pay for her bad luck. She felt she didn’t owe society a thing, such as working to earn a living, or being a decent adult, but that it was owed to her. I don’t think Libby cares much about money anyway, or material possessions, and living basically hand-to-mouth suits her depressive, self-loathing personality.

(GEH): I think primarily down to a mix of self-pity and laziness. Libby feels the world owes her because of the tragedy of her childhood, and when the world stopped paying it turned her to bitterness.

(JJ): I agree with both your assessments. She does feel owed and she is lazy. This whole persona seems to have developed out of a sense of nihilism. She always has her "I could kill myself" card up her sleeve. This short-term approach to life means she cannot plan, will not contemplate a future and regards relationships as transactions. Or so she tells herself. However, someone with such a keen eye for the subtleties of human nature is nowhere near as disengaged as she'd like to think.

So why then do you think Libby takes up Lyle’s offer from the Kill Club?

(LP): Libby is skint. The kindness of strangers has run out and she’s desperate for cash, which is the major reason that propels her towards the Kill Club. After all, she’s lived off the victim card for so long, and this isn’t really any different. Also, perhaps now that many years have lapsed since her family was massacred, she can begin to look at the crime, and the supposed perpetrator, through different eyes.

(GEH): Desperation. She realises the money will soon be at an end and it's the easiest way of getting money fast. I don't think her intentions were any deeper than that, she certainly never thought of it as a way of clearing Ben's name in the beginning.

(JJ): Yes, obviously the money is a draw but so is the attention. Her name has dropped from the limelight and she resents all the billboards advertising another girl's disappearance. She gets into this for venal reasons, but the experience has a deeper effect. I also see a curiosity in her about why people care. Libby doesn't care passionately about anything so to see a group meeting of such urgency and obsession makes her take off her shades and blink.

What do you think begins to stir Libby’s mind about the innocence, or guilt, of her brother, Ben, for the crimes?

(LP): The Kill Club is a group of crime enthusiasts who meet to discuss famous cases, such as Lizzie Borden, Jack the Ripper … and Libby’s Kansas Farmhouse murder. And when Libby realizes many of its members are convinced Ben is not guilty, she starts to question what she saw exactly, or did not see, the night of the massacre. The author expertly evokes the fallibility of memory here, and the lies a child might tell herself to get through such a devastating trauma.

(GEH): Yes, I think meeting so many people who were so certain of her brother's innocence lit a spark of guilt somewhere deep inside Libby's psyche. How did she know what she saw as real back then really was the truth? When she couldn't answer that question to her satisfaction, she had no option but to follow her journey to the truth.

(JJ): As mentioned above, Libby avoids the 'dark places'. These include the truth of that night, happy memories of her family, any honest analysis of her own behaviour, the potential enormity of a miscarriage of justice. She sticks her fingers in her ears and sings because she lacks the emotional tools with which to break any of it down. She's disaffected until she encounters the affected. Taking a peek at the possibilities, at her own pace, she starts to examine shadows, doubts and her own instinct. The latter is vital because she has learned not to trust herself.

Did you think Ben was guilty?

(LP): Well no. That seemed to be the whole point of the story, putting doubt in the reader’s mind. However, I did ask myself, along the way, if the author might be creating a red herring.

(GEH): Not really. It could have been a dramatic twist that the bad guy really was the one doing life in jail, but it seemed unlikely. I thought the ending and the big reveal were my personal highlights of the novel.

(JJ): Because we spend a lot of time in Ben's head, and understand his disenfranchised rage and teenage impotence/potency, I didn't. Had it been a single act of violence, a crime of passion by a pent-up kid with a shotgun, maybe. But strangulation, shooting and axe murdering three of his family? He simply wasn't that kind of kid.

What did you make of Diondra and her relationships?

(LP): Diondra loves to be in control and I think she’s attracted to Ben as she can have complete control over him. She can manipulate him to do whatever takes her fancy, and send him on a guilt trip over her pregnancy. And then there is the “friend”, Trey, with whom Diondra seems to relate on a sadistic, warped kind of level. Someone she feels comfortable being evil with.

(GEH): Now that's one character I didn't connect with on any level! She is very complex, spoilt, needy and dangerous too. The unplanned pregnancy set her on another level, and she saw the best way yet to control and manipulate people. I did find her part in the modern day story quite shocking too.

(JJ): I'm with Gilly on this - I loathed her and her privileged arrogance. A classic manipulator. That said, I think the portrayal of Ben's experiences with her and his reaction to her friends is pitch perfect. I felt every single one of Trey's put-downs personally. Sly, devious and people-users. Toxic.

Libby’s mother, Patty Day constantly worries whether she is a good mother. What did you think?

(LP): Poor Patty is a victim of her time, place and situation in society. She tries her best, but constantly fails due to situations beyond her control, such as finances and an abusive husband who keeps turning up to claim money she hasn’t got. However, at the end, the reader realizes just to what extent a mother such as Patty would go, in an effort to try and provide for, and protect, her children. I really felt sorry for Patty, trapped in this terrible situation.

(GEH): I sympathised with the position Patty found herself in and couldn't fault her for doing her best under the circumstances, but did question her life choices and decisions. Obviously, if you look at her final decision it was solely based on improving the lives of her children, so yes, a good mother I think.

(JJ): Certainly a victim of circumstances, strong for her kids but weak with her husband. Her sister has more of a toughness which the children respect. Patty's exhaustion is total. Little moments show how much she loves her children yet she cannot provide for them alone. She reminded me of that classic Migrant Mother photo by Dorothea Lange. At the end of her strength still trying to hold everyone up.

Did you like the story’s split narrative? Did you find one point of view more appealing than the others?

(LP): I enjoyed reading all the different points of view equally, as each cast a different light on the events.

(GEH): Yes, it worked for me. It made it far more layered to see the story and the history of the events played out between the major characters involved. It didn't confuse me at all, although I applaud the author for mastering the complicated narrative.

(JJ): The fact that each voice has such a distinctive tone and pace made it a definite success. Libby's inertia, long drives, introspective thought contrast with Ben's violent, jerky, scattershot narration whereas Patty is running out of ideas, so her recounting of the day feels like one punch landing after another. I think it's beautifully balanced. 


If you've read this book, please feel free to join our discussion and make a comment.

Booklaunch Preview # 3 - JJ Marsh & Bad Apples

What is it?

A standalone crime novel in The Beatrice Stubbs Series, the sixth and last.

Murder at a crime conference, inevitable family fireworks and all the prime ingredients for a rollercoaster adventure - Francis Guenette, author of The Crater Lake Series

Who will enjoy it?

Those who like their crime “with a lighter, less gruesome touch” (Caroline Sanderson, The Bookseller)

When is it set?

It takes place in modern-day Portugal in the heat of summer, taking in Porto, Lisbon, the national park of Gerês and a quick dash to Paris.

Where should I read it?

In the garden in a hammock or lazing on the beach with a glass of vinho verde.

Why read the last in the series first?

You can read them in any order. Each is a mystery in its own right but all the books add a piece of the puzzle that is Beatrice herself.

How will I feel at the end?

Deeply satisfied, I hope, and perhaps a tiny bit peckish.



Extract from Bad Apples

A car collected her from Aeroporto Francisco Sà Carneiro and drove her north. She gazed out at the terracotta roofs, window shutters, dusty summer foliage and roadside hoardings with a familiar sense of excitement. She was back on mainland Europe, where things are just a little different and always unpredictable.

The taxi crossed various bodies of water, each reflecting the afternoon sunshine and deep blue sky as they entered the natural park and drew nearer to their destination. Buildings became scarce and the terrain grew more mountainous and verdant. If a moose or a wolf came strolling out of the forest, Beatrice wouldn’t have been in the least surprised.

Low sun hit the fields surrounding Gerês College of Hospitality as the car rumbled up the drive to the grand-looking castle. The facade was slightly marred by damage to the uppermost stonework, where part of the crenellations had crumbled, leaving a gap resembling a missing tooth. Red and white plastic tape secured the area but added nothing to the charm of the building.

She tipped the driver and pulled her suitcase after her into an equally impressive portico. The porch was lined by blue and white tiles depicting scenes of country life, reminding her of her mother’s willow pattern crockery.

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Writer, journalist, teacher, actor, director and cultural trainer, Jill has lived and worked all over Europe. Now based in Switzerland, Jill is a founder member of Triskele Books, European correspondent for Words with JAM magazine, co-edits Swiss literary hub The Woolf and is a reviewer for Bookmuse.

Author of the Beatrice Stubbs series: Behind Closed Doors, Raw Material, Tread Softly, Cold Pressed, Human Rites  and Bad Apples. Short-story collection Appearances Greeting a Point of View is available in English, Spanish and Portuguese.

Twitter: @JJMarsh1

The Beatrice Stubbs Series
Triskele Books
Words with JAM
Bookmuse
The Woolf Quarterly

Book Launch Preview # 2 - Gillian E Hamer & Sacred Lake

What is it?

A standalone crime novel which is the third in The Gold Detective Series

Who will enjoy it?

Those who like crime with an edge. I call it Anglesey Noir. Or ‘Hamer is Anglesey’s answer to Ian Rankin’ – Amazon reviewer.

When is it set?

Two murders, four decades apart, all centred around a sacred lake with a long history of Druid activity on the beautiful island of Anglesey.

Where should I read it?

Set in mid-winter, so curled up in bed, with a mug of hot chocolate and a pack of digestives.

Why do you write crime fiction?

Because I have read crime fiction all my life and I love the genre. From Enid Blyton to Agatha Christie strong, female writers have influenced my writing.

How many books will there be in the series?

I have six stories in my head, so I’m planning six books. But let’s see where the characters take us …

Extract from Sacred Lake

JANUARY 1st 1977

I jump the gate and run for my life. Lungs on fire, legs pounding, I zig-zag through a misty tunnel of high hedgerows and out onto a road. I stumble along the centre white line, unbalanced and disorientated, one way, then the other, praying to see a car. The road is an empty black strip disappearing into the distance. Which way? I stop, hands on knees, panting, head turning, back and forth. Come on, which way!

A muffled cough spurs me onwards. The road leaves me too exposed. I leap a ditch, heading for the cover of trees, and the distant lights of houses beyond. Willing my legs to move, not to fail me now. Breath swirls around me as I stumble like a blind man, crashing into unseen obstacles but not daring to slow my pace. Slipping, sliding, arms wind-milling.

My toe snags a tree root and I hit the frozen ground. Air escapes with a whoosh, and I bite back a cry, the tang of rusted iron filling my mouth. My eyes flood with tears that bring a little warmth to my cheeks, and I strain to see and hear in the dark silence.

I need a second to catch my breath and refocus. I cannot believe this has happened. My life has turned on its head, and I’ve looked death in the face, all since the chimes of midnight brought in the new year a few short hours ago. But we both knew. All our plans for a bright, new future were ripped into shreds, scattered to the four corners, the second we heard his voice and knew he’d found our secret place.

Footsteps thud to a halt and I’m alert again. Close. He is close. Heavy breathing and the acrid scent of him on the wind. A dog barks, excited and keen. A man’s angry retort as he struggles to control the beast. On hands and knees I crawl, belly flat to the ground. Slimy leaves heed my progress, smooth and glistening like a slug’s trail as I slip silently across the forest floor. Pine needles pluck at my clothes, animals scurry from my path.

And then I am in a clearing. I gasp. A sparkling expanse, like a ballroom of crystal, a dance floor of diamonds, spreads before me. On the furthest side, a high bank of stones edges the silver oasis, and beyond that the spray and crash of the ocean.

I step forwards, arms outstretched to keep my balance. Ice. A huge sheet of ice. I take a tentative step, then another, sliding my feet across the surface in tiny, baby steps, a novice ice-skater among a more confident crowd.

A twig snaps behind me and I come to my senses. I can hear, almost feel, his breath on the back of my neck. I try to run but lose traction with each stride, a picture of Bambi, on ice, my sister’s favourite cartoon, spirals into my brain. Torch beams glitter and dance between my feet. He is closer. A man’s voice penetrates the darkness, words snatched away with the breeze.

Then a cracking noise. Hard and sharp, like a pencil snapped in two.

To be continued ......


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BOOK CLUB: The Bone Readers by Jacob Ross

The winner of the inaugural Jhalak Prize for books written by British BAME authors was the debut crime novel, The Bone Readers, by Granadan born author, Jacob Ross.

The Bone Readers is the first of four planned novels set on the tiny fictional Caribbean island of Camaho and featuring the police detective Michael 'Digger' Digson and his unconventional partner, Miss Stanislaus.

In this month's Triskele Book Club, Catriona Troth talks to four authors about their response to The Bone Readers: Michelle Innis, Kit Habianic, JJ Marsh and Gillian E Hamer, 

If you have read The Bone Readers too, please feel free to join in the conversation in the comments section below.

Unlike a conventionally structured crime novel, The Bone Readers doesn’t begin in media res, nor does it take place within a conventionally tight timeframe. Instead, it takes place over several years, tracking Digger’s career from his unconventional recruitment into the police force by the ageing, rum-soaked Chilman, via his training in forensics in London, to the confrontation that may finally solve both mysteries. What did you think of Ross’s unconventional structure?

(MI) Crime Fiction is not a genre that I would usually read. I’m more inclined to watch a crime drama on TV or in film. Having said that, I found Ross’s unconventional structure refreshing. I liked the fact that when we meet Michael ‘Digger’ Digson he is yet to be recruited into the police force. I enjoyed discovering his world and the world in which he operates. I relished in discovering his character and the way in which his character develops throughout the story. Ross develops a plausible plot, with plenty of elements of fine crime fiction and intriguing, well rounded, believable characters that by their very presence in the narrative cause the reader to care about them, rooting for them or railing against them to the very last page. Digger follows in the footsteps of the detective as a flawed hero, searching for love having been abandoned by someone important in his early life through circumstances beyond his control. As Digger is engaged in looking for the murderer he is also on a journey of self-discovery. Ross manages to create and convey a seamless marriage between the literary novel and crime fiction. 

(KH) The Bone Readers is not structured like a conventional crime novel, perhaps because it isn’t a conventional crime novel. It’s about Digger’s quest to fight crime and solve murders. But it’s more about his quest for truth and justice, about dragging dark truths into the open, to force a society to acknowledge facts it prefers to ignore. And about unpacking the secrets of Digger’s own past. The structure works well, to that end. It’s a whodunit but also a whydunit. And, of course, there are three more Camaho books to come…

(JJ) To me, it didn’t feel that unconventional. The development was chronological if more circular than linear. Returning to the unresolved issues, both present and past, felt natural and one informed the other. Also the character arc was intriguing in itself.

(GEH) Different! I thought the novel was an exceptional read, so it clearly didn’t spoil my enjoyment of it. However, I remember as I read having a slight sense of frustration that we (the reader) weren’t part of his UK visit or how we might have understood his exceptional talent at forensics had we been involved in that stage of his training. It felt as if the author might have scaled down the novel from a much-longer version, and when his publisher gave him an acceptable word count, he set about extracting the salient points that kept the story moving. I like the idea that the structure is something different, that rules are sometimes there to be broken, and as long as you deliver a cracking novel that everyone is talking about, as here, then I applaud Jacob Ross!


Two cold cases twist and turn through the pages of The Bone Readers. Michael ‘Digger’ Digson needs to find the truth behind the death of his mother, killed when he was a young boy. And his boss, Detective Superintendent Chilman, is obsessed with the case of Nathan, a young man who disappeared and whose mother is convinced he was murdered. Without giving too much away, only one of those cases is fully resolved by the end of the book. Did that work for you?

(MI) I found that the rich world of the island of Camaho and its inhabitants that Ross builds throughout the novel is just the beginning of a world I would love to dive headfirst into again and again. To keep on discovering its hidden secrets and to have Digger and his unconventional sidekick, the enigmatic Miss Stanisluas, uncover the perpetrators of unsolved crimes with their unparalleled detective skills. The fact that only one of the cases Digger is investigating is solved by the end of the novel left me with the savouring promise that this will continue in a sequel. Digger has begun to unearth something and you know that he’s not going to stop until he finds all the answers. The well-constructed plot didn’t distract from the fact that only one of the cases was resolved. It’s important that this particular case is resolved in the present. The reader instinctively knows that the other case goes even deeper into the transgressions of the powers of government and this is something that will take time and the inner strength and resolve of our detective Digger Digson.

(KH) That’s a brave choice, but one that works. For me, one of the many strengths of the book is Digger’s hinterland; the unresolved issues of his losses, his search for understanding but also for his own identity. Because the novel ends with those issues left untied, you put the book down, wanting more.

(JJ) I think there is a kind of resolution in a way, if only in the form of acceptance. There may not have been justice in both cases, but there is knowledge. Ross leaves certain things open but gives the reader confidence in the future.

(GEH) I’m not sure why the author decided to leave question marks over Digger’s mother, but I’m hoping it’s because he intends to follow on with a second book with the same lead character, and that it becomes a central thread we return to again. Otherwise, yes, it’s a bit frustrating that he went part of the way to finding the truth but didn’t find all the answers.


If Digger reads bones, then his unofficial partner, Miss Stanislaus, reads people. How do these two compare with other, classic detective partners?

(KH) This is an intriguing one. Miss K Stanislaus is a reader of people. Digger is a searcher of facts. Given her shrewdness, I wondered why Miss Stanislaus isn’t harder on Digger – and more hostile to him, given the abuse she’s suffered and given the way Digger treats women. She seems to decide very early that he’s one of the good guys, when there’s plenty of evidence to the contrary. I would have loved her to give him a far harder time, to puncture his swagger. And for him to have had to work a lot harder to impress her. For a little more heat to the spark.

(JJ) They work brilliantly. The rough edges between them create all kinds of interesting dynamics and they balance out well. Neither is always in the know, they take turns at leading, unlike the classic detective and sidekick. They need each other’s skills and experience. It’s a likeable if quirky relationship.

(GEH) I think both characters are unique, and I hope their first date goes well, and they end up married and live happily ever after! I can’t think of another detective thriller with this balance, although television dramas such as Silent Witness touch on the subject, and author, Tess Gerritsen, uses a forensic expert as a lead character. If I could pick on one thing that I felt could have been explained more, it would be how and why these two people, both from impoverished backgrounds, came about having these gifts? Was there one particular incident in their lives? How did they discover their talents? I found this a little frustrating and would have liked to nose around in their lives a little more because they were both such fascinating individuals. But as I said, this is a partnership that can run and run, and I hope it does.


“Missa Digga, it look to me like everyone on Camaho searching for somebody.” What does this quote from Miss Stanislaus tell us about what Ross is trying to say?

(MI) I think that Ross is alluding to the fact that there is always a relationship that remains unresolved, whether that is with another person or oneself. Also, that people are constantly trying to rediscover, renegotiate and redefine their own reality with the reality that is presented to them by the wider world.

(KH) The book explores wider themes of searching; to reveal the secrets every character hides, for truths about the past, for identity and a sense of belonging. Camaho is a fractured society, scarred by abuses of power, and secrets and broken family ties. Digger and Miss Stanislaus have a shared experience of abandonment and abuse, in a society where deracination seems to be the norm, in which old wounds refuse to heal.

(JJ) Apart from the fragile nature of life and relationships, some people do find what they’re looking for. I took a hint of positivity from this, combined with what she says in the the previous chapter: “Den we go take some breeze, remind weself dat life not bad.” Another quote I noted was from Digger: “What happened between humans frightened me.” And yet he engages with people and manages to affect lives for the better.

(GEH) I took the quote to be a cultural reference, that it wasn’t a happy place to be born. There were many disparaging comments throughout the book about Camaho men, their treatment of women, and the implication they were known for abandoning their off-spring. I can imagine that as families were forced apart and lives became more entangled, people were often searching for the truth of their past. It felt to me that although it was a small community it was often a lonely place to live.


The multiple strands of the book play on themes of sexual violence, sexual exploitation, gender power struggles and corruption. How successful do you think Ross was in balancing these themes in Digger’s own life and in the case he is trying to solve? Is Digger breaking the cycle of male violence or repeating it?

(MI) Ross endeavours to show that Digger is perhaps an exception to the rule. He knows that his father has abused his position of power in relation to his mother and he hates his father for this misuse of male privilege and power. Digger is fully aware of how difficult it is to survive as a woman in a male dominated world through the death of his mother and the life his grandmother lived. He is also aware through his relationship with his grandmother that women are strong, intelligent and worthy of respect. Ross does not shy away from the reality of women’s lives in relation to the men they share their lives with. Digger is always shown to have a choice. Does he take advantage of Dessie or does he help her? Does he further exploit Lonnie or does he try to save her? Does he take advantage of the feelings Pet has for him? Does he treat Ms Stanislaus’ intelligence with the respect that it deserves or does he use his position to put her down? Through his choices he endeavours to break the cycle.

(KH) Yes, I came away from the book wondering that. Digger seems to have cast himself as a righter of wrongs against women. He was raised – and perhaps feels abandoned by – strong women. But his treatment of women undermines his credibility. Digger surrounds himself with women, but there’s something acquisitive about this. In a society where women seem to be treated like currency, is gathering strong, beautiful, gifted women a game of one-upmanship, not a declaration of equality? Does Digger respect Dessie and Lonnie, Pet and Adora? Are they more than conquests of prestige?

(JJ) To contradict what I said above, the scale of what women and good men have to contend with seemed intimidating and enough to make one give up. Yet Digger does not, and takes his knowledge of how society works to make it work for him. I’m thinking of the Dessie storyline.

(GEH) I think Digger is determined to break the chain. He’s shown through his actions, with Lonnie, Dessie and protecting Miss Stanislaus from the law after the death of Bello, that he’s a guy who will stand up for female rights. I think Ross goes out of his way to show this – thinking about his visit to Dessie’s family and his reaction to Malan’s treatment of Lonnie. He’s a good guy and wants to see change in the male dominated world he’s come from and I believe he will go out of his way to help achieve that.


The women in the book are tough, shrewd, emotionally intelligent and sassy. Yet they are trapped by male prejudice, male violence and the male stranglehold on power. Many carry scars from the sexual violence they have experienced. What did you think of Ross’s portrayal of these flawed female characters?

(MI) It’s important to portray women as three dimensional characters. Ross shows a real empathy for the women presented in his novel. These women are survivors. They’ve survived and will continue to survive against the odds of living in a patriarchal society dominated by male prejudice and violence. They bind communities together, support each other, and share each other’s losses and pain. I’m looking forward to see how Ross further develops the character of Miss Stanislaus throughout the quartet as she is thus far the strongest female character in the novel.   

(KH) The power of The Bone Readers lies in its flawed, powerful female characters, nearly all of them challenging the status quo, overtly or covertly. The novel springs to life when Miss Stanislaus walks in with her yellow dress and ladylike hat and handbag and shrewd eyes. Miss Stanislaus is the quiet witness who makes it possible for all those other stories to be heard. Men don’t come off well at all in the book, based on their treatment of women and children. Miss Stanislaus is an unlikely avenger, with her soft voice and genteel dress sense. That voice and those actions give the book its soul and heart.

(JJ) The women characters come across as nuanced and varied in the way they deal with their status and treatment. His portrayal of the complex dance women must perform is fascinating. Characters such as Adora, the Mother, Pet and Lisa, Dessie and Lonnie demonstrate skill and subtlety in how they use their strength. Stand up but don’t rock the boat.

(GEH) I think Ross seems to have a point to prove, but did he overdo it a little … maybe. Lonnie and Dessie felt similar to me in many ways, and then Miss Stanislaus’s own background went down a similar route. But that was as you say the central theme, the author had a point to make, and he made it well – I found all of the characters believable and felt sympathy for their situations.


British and American authors writing about the Caribbean usually portray it as a sort of paradise. Ross belongs to a new breed of Caribbean writers (Marlon James, Kei Millar, Ezekel Alan) who are exposing a darker, often more brutal side of the islands. How do books like these affect your image of the Caribbean and what do you think motivates these authors to write in this way?

(MI) Camaho is not the world portrayed by the likes of Sandal’s beach resorts, with tanned bodies, clear blue skies, a beautiful green sea and long iced drinks. It is an island inhabited by real people living real lives with all its inconsistencies, injustices and brutality. The island in this respect is not unlike any other town, city or village to be found throughout the world. The fact that this generation of Caribbean male writers have decided to portray the violence perpetrated against women and the LGBT community in their writing is indicative of the imperative conversation which articulates the way in which some men are questioning the patriarchal status quo they have inherited.

(JJ) I’d guess their motivation seems to stem from a wish to show the whole picture, that of poverty, crime, injustice and cultural conventions which forms a darker part of the reality. Seeing just one aspect of a country depicted in order to attract tourism must give writers the urge to look under stones.

(GEH) I like the dark theme, it suits the crime genre, and I thought the lack of ‘stunning sunsets’ or ‘wide expanse of white sand’ was refreshing. We get a sense of place, but not the cliched version. I think we may be aware of drugs and gangs and the under belly of the Caribbean, but here we got to see real life, behind the travel brochure image, and that has to be a brilliant start for any true-life crime novel. Why? I don’t know that it’s probably a choice the author’s consciously take, more that they have a story they want to tell and a way they need to tell it.

This month, Triskele authors JJ Marsh and Gillian E Hamer have been joined by two other authors. Michelle Innis is a playwright, on of the founders of Pitch Lake Productions and author of She Called Me Mother.  Kit Habianic is the author of Until Our Blood Is Dry.

You can read Triskele's interview with Kit Habianic here, and Catriona Troth's interview with Michelle Innis in Words with Jam here.