Have a look at this! Such a wonderful intro. Mark, be my agent!!!!!!
It is a truth universally acknowledged that a guest on MWi gets a hard time of it before I finally let them have their say.
To those who’ve been reading Gisborne as it appeared on the blog, I thought you might like to see how its changing as it travels through its first edit. The first thing to notice is that the story now begins right when Ysabel first meets Guy of Gisborne at the time she receives news of her mother’s death. That convoluted back and forth style of previously has now been replaced by a plain linear narrative.
An easter gift from Gisborne…
As we in Australia move into Easter Thursday, my novel’s main character and I would like to wish you all a safe and happy Easter break. I’m off to write more Gisborne and walk the beaches. And Gisborne? That’d be telling!
The shortstory has now been published by Bo Press in a robust miniature form and I am delighted with what the studio has created. It portrays the essence of Gisborne’s place in the medieval era beautifully and given that my Gisborne has a predilection for illuminated manuscripts, is even more apt. 
I ordered one immediately but really feel I should order another and send it to Richard Armitage via his agent. Has anyone got the agent’s address?
On Friday, Bopress Miniature books asked if I was interested in writing a short-story about Gisborne for the studio to create and bind a special book. I needed no urging because last year the studio did a beautiful version of The Masked Ball around the time that we were actually holding a ‘virtual’ masked ball on the blog.
I could smell his hand and some pathetic part of my body reacted like a cat with a bowl of cream. But the direness of my stuation kicked the bowl to smithereens and as I struggled, squirming and pulling against him, I realized I could never call for help. To whom? De Courcey’s men? I tried to kick backward, wanting to hurt him…
Writing frantically to fill my commitments for FanstRAvaganza was the best thing I’ve done in terms of moving Gisborne along. As a quasi-regular upload to the blog in the past, such lack of commitment to the narrative was not a good thing. Despite the fact I loved writing this story more than any other I’ve done, there were always other writing commitments. Kindle edits, edits of a fantasy manuscript to be sent to London, writing blogs… oh and Twitter, Facebook, and the now famous and much-loved Austen #A4T contributions.
The last instalment for FanstRAvaganza. Further uploads of Gisborne will take place in the short term on Mesmered.
Be calm. Don’t panic. Think. My heart raced and my legs threatened to fold as I poled the craft as quietly as I could. It humoured me, allowing me to slip along in the current, barely making a ripple. But the darkness suffocated. Swathes of giant grasses lined the banks like serried rows of pike-men in some duke’s army. Huge trees towered above the grasses and I fancied they resembled trebuchets and mangonels. The air itself, hardly moving in the night, was moist and laden with the odour of mud and weed. As Walsocam drained into the rivulet there were other smells as well – excrement, the bloated remains of a butchered sheep… the fragrance nauseating.
The fourth instalment as part of Fanstravaganza.
The journey continued like a roll of ribbon unwinding and sometimes I despaired of ever seeing the end. There were other times when I never wanted the end to appear as it meant so many things that I couldn’t bear to countenance. The first time a familiar landmark appeared, my stomach jolted and I wondered if I should be sick. The instinct to turn and flee was a powerful one and had me almost undone. Would I have continued on without Guy’s protection? Somehow I doubted it. Is it Guy’s so called dependability that will make me feel secure? Or is it that my obligations are greater? Oh such good questions, such unanswerable questions.
