Character Showcase - Arjun Das

In my new release SLOWLY RISING one of the heroine's best friends and advisers is Arjun Das, the Indian manservant of Lady Bramley's neighbor. If you read SLOWLY FELL you will know a little bit about this curious neighbor of whom her ladyship had grave doubts at first, and I daresay you'll get to know him better, as she has done, in the future. Suffice to say, in this book, you will become acquainted with Arjun Das, the neighbor's very wise, all-seeing, all-knowing gentleman's gentleman --  who is, on the surface, a valet.

Despite his very dutiful approach to the job, Arjun possesses a sly streak of teasing mischief. He loves to tell spectacularly tall tales -- although he tells them so solemnly that nobody can be sure whether they are the work of his colorful imagination or true stories. When he and his equally mysterious master, Mr. Volkov, first moved in at 17 Hanover Square, Arjun Das pretended to be mute just to amuse himself, which caused an even greater stir among the other servants on the square. And probably made him accidentally privy to a few dark secrets, since they assumed he would never be able to tell anybody what he knew.

He likes to keep folk on their toes, unable to predict what he might do next.

Our heroine takes a liking to him at once, for she feels as if he sees her and understands her as nobody else ever does. He is always ready to advise and guide her in a gentle way, and when Lady Bramley sends her to tend a new mistress at the haunted manor house called Slowly Rising, Arjun comes out of his house, even in the rain, to see her off with a few kind words of encouragement.

"Do not look down, little one. Always look to see which way the bubbles rise. They will show you the way to the surface, bravest of tiny, tiny woman creatures. If you look up, you will see and remember that there are no limits. Nothing is beyond you."

 

She will carry his sound advice with her on this adventure. To Amalie McKenna, Arjun has been a dear friend and confidant, but only much later will she realize exactly how special he is, for this gentleman's gentleman so extraordinary has other talents too. And yes, his stories are all true.

 

Well, mostly.

 

HAPPY READING!

 

JF

 

Images used here: Both paintings by Raja Ravi Varma (1848-1906). The first is a portrait of T. Madhara Rao, Indian civil servant, politician and Dewan of Travancore, who was known as a great administrator. I have been told  that he bears a good resemblance to the Arjun Das of my story. The second portrays Vishnu with his two wives on Garuda, a legendary bird of mythology -- a painting included here because its so striking. Whether or not Arjun Das had two wives, he is keeping to himself.

Character Showcase - Gideon Jones

At the beginning of SLOWLY RISING, Gideon Jones is a Bow Street Runner, who also has experience providing protection services for some important members of society. He has been called upon, in the past, to solve various problems -- such as blackmailing ex-lovers and murderous relatives impatient for their share of a rich old lady's inheritance.

But Gideon's company was not always in high demand. Far from it. As a babe he was left at an orphanage, where he spent the first ten years of his life being abused and told that he was unwanted, nothing more than a burden on society. Then he spent several years in a workhouse, before he took his chance in the outside world. Despite this unhappy start in life, he has always kept his head up, determined never to be pushed under by those who think they're superior.

Recognizing the importance of an education, he taught himself to read using old copies of the "Hue and Cry"* (a weekly newspaper containing details of crimes and criminals wanted), but he also keeps an old, tattered copy of Gulliver's Travels, which once blew into his hands over the orphanage wall. Now, as an adult, he keeps a thick dictionary by his side to look up any words he does not know. Determined never to be looked down upon again, he doesn't want to be known as all brawn for the rest of his days; he wants to be respected for his brain too.

"Gideon didn't believe in pandering to the upper classes. He owed them nothing, saw no cause to cower and demean himself, to save their dainty brows from the furrows of vexation, or shelter their backsides from the bruises of reality. Often he found that they appreciated his manner, for in most cases they were surrounded only by sycophants and his brutal honesty made a refreshing change. In small doses. "They hire Gideon Jones, then they get Gideon Jones. Exactly as he is, scars and all," he liked to say, when people complained about his undecorated form of speech."

When the Dowager Lady Bramley hires Gideon to pose as a valet and look after her good friends, Adam and Sarah Wilding, he finds himself embarking on a new adventure. He has rarely been far outside London, but now he's off to the countryside, to a house called Slowly Rising. He's heard it's haunted - Lady Bramley says there is a "lurking menace" and "deeds afoot" that are beyond her to explain. But Gideon doesn't believe in ghosts, hobgoblins or witches... "they could not possibly hold more horrors than the places in which he spent his childhood." He's a plain-speaking, straightforward cockney and he won't take nonsense from anybody or anything-- whether they be flesh and blood, or a spectral creature bent on mischief.

He's fairly sure there's nothing left in this life that can surprise, or frighten him. And then he arrives at Slowly Rising and meets the odd little lady's maid who works for Mrs. Wilding. He doesn't trust her - not a hair on her pretty head. She's too prim and haughty, too tidy and composed, too good to be true.

As for those dyed-pink silk stockings she wears...surely not fitting for a lady's maid. Possibly meant to distract a man from his job. Oh, and under her bed she keeps a silver chocolate pot that sings to itself.

Is she the "lurking menace" he was sent there to stop?

He'll just have to keep an eye on her...and her stockings, because there is something adrift about Miss McKenna.

SLOWLY RISING will be available online August 29th, 2018

JF

(Image here: Wanderer above the Sea of Fog by Caspar David Freidrich c. 1818)



*after 1839 this publication became known as the Police Gazette.

Character Showcase - Mrs. Hopper

Well, I suppose I must begin by telling you that Mrs. Hopper declined to be interviewed for her character showcase. She is most put out by the portrayal of her character in the book SLOWLY RISING and threatens to take steps to halt publication before Wednesday, August 29th. As she says, she does not stand for tomfoolery of this nature and she has a reputation to protect. She has been made to look like a buffoon.

 

But since we stand by our version of events, we intend to continue as planned and give you a little insight into the "housekeeper" who comes to manage the vicar's household after the death of his wife.

 

Agnes Hopper is a widow from Monk's Cross - the nearest market town to the much smaller village of Slowly Fell. She dresses with a style and elegance that seems out of place for a housekeeper and especially raises eyebrows in her new village. Agnes Hopper, so they say, "is no better than she should be."

 

Her curiosity piqued by this remark, Mrs. Sarah Wilding, the mistress of Slowly Rising manor house decides she had better take a look at Mrs. Hopper and she brings along her new lady's maid for the visit. Both women will soon have formed their own opinions about the vicar's housekeeper and neither are very flattering.

 

"She's not much acquainted with a feather duster," says the lady's maid. Mrs. Hopper has far too many frills on her sleeves. For a newcomer, she is also a little too forceful with her opinions and comfortable playing the less-than-gracious hostess in a house that is not her own. Yet.

 

But Mrs. Hopper has not come to Slowly Fell simply to work as a housekeeper. She has other talents— or so she believes. Having heard of the haunted house that overlooks the village, she plans to investigate and put a stop to the rowdiness of those spirits left to run amok within the walls of Slowly Rising. After all, she knows how to communicate with "lost souls" and has talked to her husband every day since he died.

 

As Mrs. Wilding's lady's maid remarks, poor Mr. Hopper. He still cannot get away from his wife, or finish a sentence. Even in death.

 

Can Agnes Hopper rout the "undead" of Slowly Rising? Or will she find herself in over her proudly feathered hat?

 

Find out soon! SLOWLY RISING available August 29th, 2018. (If Mrs. Hopper, who knows more about everything than anybody who ever lived, is not able to get it stopped first).

 

Happy reading!

 

JF

 

 

(Image used here: Woman Before Rising Sun by Caspar David Friedrich C. 1818)

Character Showcase - Coquin

In SLOWLY RISING (available next Wednesday, 29th August) Coquin is the name of a naughty, restless spirit creature who lives inside a silver chocolate pot. She constantly pesters her young mistress (and, as Coquin sees it, her gaoler) to let her free. In the meantime she spins the stirrer inside the pot, chatters incessantly to annoy her mistress and sings songs. Over and over again.

How did Coquin get inside the pot and who, or what, exactly is she?

Well, you'll have to read the book to find out.

Suffice to say, she's older than she thinks she is, naughtier than anybody knows, capable of greater destruction than she can imagine, and there is only one person who can set her free from her pot. But it's not her little mistress who, for all her promises, is firmly resolved never to let Coquin out again.

Look what happened last time.

No, it is a certain man who will stumble upon Coquin in her chocolate pot and let her out, without even knowing what he's done.

In the words of Coquin's mistress, "Men only ever made the world untidy, leaving women to clean up the mess."

I have to say, if I were ever trapped in a pot, I would rather it be one in which chocolate is made than anything else.

Look for SLOWLY RISING next week, and, if you haven't already, grab your copy of the prequel SLOWLY FELL, which is currently on sale at all the best online book stores!

JF


Images shown are both 18th century paintings by Jean-Etienne Liotard. The first is called "The Chocolate Girl" and the second "A Lady  Pouring Chocolate". I love the way you can almost touch the material in both pictures, particularly the first).

 

 
 

Coming next week!

Slowly Rising is a house that slumbers with one eye open— a lantern that flickers with watchful amber flame in a second floor window. But like a cat hunched before a mouse hole, it is never fully and deeply asleep. Just pretending.

Once in a while it stretches; its tail languidly unfurls to give a single, sultry sweep from side to side before it lies still again. With an ear to the wall you can hear the wattle and daub vibrating with a low, throbbing purr.

The woman who sings in the walls of the house is waiting.

* * * *

Amalie McKenna, the new lady's maid at Slowly Rising, is ambitious, hard-working and devoted to her job. Nothing can distract her and she has no time for mischief. This house might have a macabre history and more than a few wayward spirits, but Amalie is unimpressed. The supernatural has been a part of her world since before she was born and there's not much left that can surprise her, or make her heart beat faster.

 Gideon Jones has also come to Slowly Rising with a job to do. Unlike anything she's ever encountered before, he's a straightforward, plain-speaking, fearless cockney with rough edges and an irrepressible smile. He claims to be an ordinary valet, but Amalie doesn't believe that for a minute. Because nothing that lives within the walls of Slowly Rising is quite what it seems.

* * * *

Despite their differences, there is one thing the house's residents have in common: they're brave souls who came on a long journey, ready for adventure. And if they are bold enough to ignore the warning scratched into the doorframe, the menacing sentry of crows, and rumors of a man once scared to death within, then they're welcome to stay a while. At their own risk.

Now the woman who sings in the walls of the house waits for you. Are you ready to step inside?

 

 

SLOWLY RISING is the sequel to SLOWLY FELL and it will be out next Wednesday, August 29th, 2018. I'll be posting excerpts and character showcases in the days leading up to release, so don't forget to check in over the week.

 

Happy Reading!

 

JF

Do you believe in sales??

SLOWLY FELL is now available from all online bookstores at a special low price, so here is your chance to pick up a copy and catch up on the story before the sequel SLOWLY RISING is released at the end of this month.

* * * *

Do you believe in witches?
Adam Wyatt will tell you that he certainly doesn't believe. He's the solemn, sensible blacksmith of Slowly Fell and he keeps his distance from females entirely for his own tranquility of mind, not out of any fear of mischievous magic. In his opinion, the great number of souls lost forever to the village pond can be blamed on carelessness and unlucky accident; nothing to do with a witch's curse.

The Dowager Lady Bramley, widow of the local squire, also denies a belief in witchcraft. Or ghosts. Although she's lately enjoyed long discussions with her dear departed husband, who is intent on luring her to Slowly Fell, a place that haunts her dreams-a village with a macabre history, and a connection to her family that she would rather not remember.

Admiral Wetherby did not believe in witches either, until madness caused him to burn down his house and all his possessions, sending himself up in smoke with it. And now his daughter, practical, level-headed survivor, Sarah Wetherby, arriving in Slowly Fell to look after the vicar's sick wife, doesn't know what to think about witches. She is not a young woman prone to fanciful ideas, but she loves a good mystery, and there is certainly something going on in Slowly Fell. Sarah has begun to suspect that she's lived here before. Certain sights around the village are familiar- the house where a reclusive old woman resides in grand, but lonely splendor; the pond where a family of accused witches once met their deaths in the ducking-stool, and even the gruff manners of that handsome bachelor blacksmith seem to her familiar as old friends. Or something more.

But in Slowly Fell, nothing and nobody is quite what they seem.

AMAZON UK

AMAZON US

Illustration used here: April Love by Arthur Hughes c.1855 (Just because I like it)

The Storyteller

            My father was a fabulous teller of stories-- he could make you laugh until you felt sick, but you didn't mind. And you were still laughing the next day, thinking about his expression as he described how somebody got their face pushed into a plate full of egg, or how he tormented his little brother. How he was, of course, always in trouble.

            His stories were true -- not fiction, but about his childhood, adolescence and young adulthood, growing up under circumstances that few people today would experience -- but they were still remarkable, even magical to us, as we sat around him in rapt attention. He often wove a bit of humor into his tales and nobody else could tell them quite the way he did. I've always said I get my love of a good story from my Dad. But I still can't tell them the way he could.

            Growing up in England in the seventies we had a lot of power cuts, and maybe that's when he started telling his stories to entertain us, but I can clearly remember thinking how wonderful it was that he could make us laugh like that and put pictures in our heads as if we were watching a movie. But better.

            I wanted to do the same, but I would have to write my stories down for people to read, because I was never confident about speaking in front of people. I would have to hide behind pen and paper. Even so, the stories still had to come out.

            The fiction my dad loved were some classics of English Literature. His favourites were Dickens' "Great Expectations" and R. D. Blackmore's "Lorna Doone". I don't know when he would have read them as he left school at fourteen to work -- and from what he said of his education in rural East Anglia it did not involve a lot of books! -- but somehow he had absorbed those wonderful stories and he never forgot the colorful characters. I suppose that's another influence on me, because when I create characters I often think, "What would Dad say? Would Dad like them?"  or  I imagine I can hear him laughing. Which, for me, is the best review ever.

         

   My sisters and I are old ladies now (I can  hear them complaining - "Speak for yourself"), but when it comes to our memories of Dad, I think that's how we all still picture him, laughing and telling one of his stories.

            There were many deeply sad stories in his life too, but he left off telling those until he wrote his memoirs in his eighties. We knew they were there, but he didn't talk about them and so we didn't dare either. He said to me once, during the last two weeks I spent with him, "We didn't have touchy feely in my day". He just got on with his life, no matter what was thrown at him. I read his memoirs now, feeling very, very grateful that he took the time and made the effort to tell us the whole story in the end. And loving him all the more for it -- if that's possible.

            I understand now that his sense of humor must have saved him many times. It kept him going through terrible tragedy, when some would have given up and given in.

            One day, perhaps, I'll write a story about it. When I can  be as strong as he was.

            For now, I'll keep writing my silly creations, trying to amuse, surprise and entertain in the

only way I can. As I grow older I find myself greatly influenced by my dad, by the contrast of laughter and sadness in his life, and his love of memorable characters. My next story is no exception.

            Let's see. There's a lady's maid who keeps a pet demon inside a silver chocolate pot, an Indian valet who knows everything and tells incredible stories, a house that sings to itself-- when its being naughty, a gardener who thinks he has to feed dragons, several ghosts, a murderous pond -- and a corpse or two. Oh, and a Bow Street Runner who thinks it's all utter nonsense and they're all "Barmy". But that lady's maid knows, the minute she sees him, that they're going to be married. And she's not in the least happy about it.

            I think my Dad will like this one.

 

* * * *

 

Keep an eye out for Slowly Rising - coming this summer! In the meantime, you may want to catch up with the story in SLOWLY FELL, if you haven't already. And if you have, hey - read it again.

Photos - mine and my family's. Painting of "Maid with Chocolate Pot" by Jean Etienne Liotard c. 1745