I had loved poetry and the theatre. Now I loved adventure more.
I am more one for the story, I think, than the action.
You couldn’t predict what was going to happen for one simple reason: people.
We are living in glorious days where each readers’ voice can be heard.
She picked up the stout and took a sip. It slid down her throat like silk.
A writer is like a stick of rock – the words go right through.
Sometimes life isn’t what we want, it’s what we get.
People are so different in wartime. No one gets to be ordinary. Not really.
Researching books gets you into nothing but trouble.
Afternoon drinkers shifted in the gloom as if they sensed new blood.
History is full of blank spaces, but good stories, invariably, are not.