Anyone who’s ever written a book and also had children will tell you that the only feeling that compares with that of holding the first printed copy in your hand is that of holding your newborn baby in your arms.

I’ve had that feeling a few times, both with babies and with biographies and studies of history, language and poetry – you’ll find the details (not of the babies) on the Books page – but there’s always been a nagging whisper in the back of my mind.

But it’s not a novel…

Well, this time it is.

Betrayal has been a long time in gestation – several years after my previous book. There’ve been setbacks and pauses, rethinks and rewrites. Things, both good and bad, have happened in my life to distract me from writing. 

But Betrayal kept coming back to me, asking me questions. What about that cliff top setting that had so moved me in Dorset? What was the story about the wartime radar station? What might be the history of the tumble-down house? And, simply, how important is it just to trust people?

https://amzn.to/3Qzp7fT