A couple of weeks ago, all my waiting, staying on tenterhooks was rewarded. My publisher offered me a new two-book contract. I’m waiting for the paperwork, but it’s all settled, with plenty of relief for me. Anxiety levels down, sleeping better.
The contract is for The Ascent Of Lies, the first book featuring Virginia Cooper and American abolitionist Asa Daniels. Earlier this year I posted the book’s prologue – take a read of it here to get a sense of Virginia- and in all honestly, I feel it’s the best book I’ve written, set in both Leeds and York. It’s 1862, and the Confederates are in Yorkshire. Doesn’t what whet your appetite.
One scene is set in Royal Park, a fairly short-lived pleasure garden near Woodhouse Moor, a successor of sorts to the ill-fated Botanical Gardens. That pub, the Royal Park, and those streets with that name, all came from the gardens. The entrance looked like this:
The book will be published in January 2027 (I know, feels like science fiction, doesn’t it? Or I’m old, something like that). The start of a slightly different series, I hope, and one with a very strong female lead.
I mentioned two books, though…the other one will be a third Cathy Marsden thriller; the second, The Faces Of The Dead, will be published next April. Called Blood Red Music, it’s set in 1947, after the war. Her time in the Special Investigation Branch is a distant memory, and she’s left the police force to start a private enquiry agency with…her brother, Dan. I’m not going to say more about the plot, as I’m in the middle of writing it. Due out in July 2027, I believe.
Speaking of Cathy, the Kindle edition of No Precious Truth is currently £4.99 in the UK ($6.99 US), and available here. Even bigger news – the paperback comes out November 20th, just £9.99 UK, and in time to give to people for Christmas. You can never go wrong with giving a book, especially bought from an indie bookshop. Makes it all more complete.
Something I hadn’t noticed at first, the two series I’m now writing are both female-led, and one of them in middle-aged.
I’m sorry you couldn’t be there, out at Kirkstall Forge for the launch of No Precious Truth. I never counted how many came, but the estimates are between 50 and 60 – a hell of a turnout for a sunny Thursday evening, and I’m flattered so many attended.
A number of faces I knew, and far many more that I didn’t. There had been an article about the event in the regional newspapers that must have made people curious. But also people familiar with my books, curious to see Leeds in a World War 2 setting, and to meet Woman Police Sergeant Cathy Marsden. And to be terrified by that rare vision of me in a suit.
The Forge features in the book, making it an ideal location for the launch. It had been important in the war (and was bombed in 1942, with five men losing their lives). I’m grateful to Lucinda Yeadon, who ended up in hospital two nights before the event (all wishes for a speedy recovery), to Marius and Shelly for being so receptive to the idea and organising everything, as well as providing refreshments for everyone.
Plenty of artifacts and ledgers from the Forge in wartime were on display, along with replica war documents, like ration books and identity cards, and newspapers.
Truman Books, a wonderful independent from Farsley, was the bookseller. 22 copies of No Precious Truth were sold, as well as two from the Tom Harper series. Thank you, everyone who bought a copy.
The centrepiece, though, was the cake, made and decorated by Lizzie, the daughter of Shelly, who runs Butler’s café, the venue for the event. Isn’t it glorious? Here it is, before and after.
I’m grateful to everyone who came and all those involved in putting on the event. Thank you. I hope the photos make you feel you were there. Remember, you can buy the book and see what all those people have discovered. Cheapest UK hardback price, with free postage, is here.
Yesterday No Precious Truth was released into the wild.
It’s there, waiting for you to adopt it and take it home.
If you really want to meet it (and the author – there’s always a downside) why not come to the book launch in Leeds?
It’s on Thursday, April 17, 6-7pm at Kirkstall Forge, a location that features in the book. Plenty of parking, or it has its own little railway station, five minutes on the train from Leeds City station. If you’re anywhere close to Leeds, I promise it’ll be worth your while.
I’d love to have as many people there as possible. It’s free, there’s cake, and Truman Books will be on hand to sell copies of the book. Artefacts from the Forge on display, photos from the war, replica war documents and newspapers for you to examine.
And cake. Did I say cake?
Please, come along. If you can email Lucinda at lucinda.yeadon@ceg.co.uk so she can keep an eye on the numbers, that would be great.
My new book, No Precious Truth, will be published on April 1.
However, in exchange for an honest review, you can read it now. It’s available on NetGalley. You need to register with them – free and only takes a few seconds – then be approved for Severn House titles. If you’re not, please drop me a line and I should be able to fix that for you.
It’s the start of a new series, Leeds in World War 2, with a new female lead character I love, but yes, I’m nervous about it, even more so than when a series in established. I’d like plenty of people to read it and give their opinions, so you’d actually be helping me.
Thank you in advance.
If you are registered with NetGalley and approved for Severn Housem simply go here.
First of all, a happy 2025. May it bring you healthy and happiness and a sense of calm.
But…new year, new series?
It’s true, I’ve dropped hints and more on here about it. With No Precious Truth (out April 1) I’m shifting to the Second World War and Leeds in 1941.
To begin, I should say I wrote an entire unpublished novel with Cathy that detailed her start with the Special Investigation Branch. And I discovered that she, the era and the situation would not leave me alone. She demanded I write more. The last time that happened was with Annabelle Harper, so draw your own conclusions.
Cathy Marsden was born and raised in Leeds, growing up on Quarry Hill until the family was rehoused to the brand-new Gipton estate in 1934. The city and its people is in her blood – more than she realises at first. Her father receives a pension, lungs ruined by mustard gas at Arras in World War 1. Cathy is a policewoman, a sergeant. She’d been in charge of six female police constables and reporting to a female inspector – at least until September 1940, when she was seconded to the Special Investigation Branch, which had opened a small Leeds office in the summer. The idea was she’d show the five men in the squad around the city. The SIB was made up of former police detectives who’d joined the army or been in the reserve, only to end up in the military police, and then SIB. They have army ranks, are supposed to carry sidearms, and work out of a small office in the Ministry of Works office on Briggate.
Where was that? Does this look familiar?
Now take a look at this. It was supposed to be the flagship Marks & Spencer store, but it was requisition by the government for the ministry.
Entrance right here.
The secondment was meant to last three weeks. In that time Cathy proved to be vital to the squad. Working in plain clothes, with her local knowledge, her skills have chance to blossom and the period is extended until she’s there for the duration.
But there’s one other thing she does. Every Friday evening, from 6-10, she’s a firewatcher at the top of Matthias Robinson’s department store, just up Briggate (it became Debenhams, and just reopened as Flannels).
There have been air raids, but Leeds has escaped the horrors inflicted on other British cities – so far. But how long can that last?
Meanwhile, Cathy and the men in SIB are going to have a very big problem. The first inkling is the return of her brother, who moved to London as soon as he could and is, he’s told the family, a civil servant…well, read for yourselves.
From the corner of her eye, Cathy caught sight of someone else entering the room. Her eyes widened in disbelief. He wasn’t anyone she’d ever expected to see in this place. She folded her arms and glared at him.
‘What the hell are you doing here?
Daniel Marsden was five years older than her, the clever boy who won the scholarship to grammar school. The one who passed everything without seeming to do a stroke of work while she studied deep into the night, struggling with her lessons and failing half her exams.
He was the boy people noticed. They remembered him, asked after him, always full of praise, with Cathy a poor second. When Dan landed a Civil Service job and moved down to London, she’d said nothing, but deep inside she’d been glad to see the back of him. After so many years she had the chance to move out of her brother’s shadow. Even now, his Christmas visits each year felt like more than enough time together, watching everyone gather round him. She’d been quietly relieved when he’d said there was too much going on at the ministry last December to be able to come.
Now he was standing in the office where she worked. He smiled.
‘I like the way you’ve had your hair done. It suits you.’
Cathy felt herself bristle. At twenty-six, she’d spent four years as a woman police constable, then two more as a sergeant, before her secondment to SIB and a move into plain clothes. She’d had to fight for respect every step of the way. It had been the same when she started here. She’d needed to work hard to make the squad accept her. To understand that a woman could do this job. Cathy wasn’t going to let her brother dismiss all that with a flippant comment. Just the sight of him here, where she’d built a place for herself, made the excitement and pride at finding Dobson wither away.
‘I’m so very glad you approve.’
Dan shifted his glance away.
‘He’s been sent,’ Faulkner told her. ‘We’re working with him.’
She turned, fire in her eyes. Like the other men in SIB, Adam Faulkner had been a police detective before the war. He’d been in London, a member of the Flying Squad. They were famous, the best Scotland Yard had; everybody in the country had heard of them. He’d joined the army, eager to defend his country, only to find himself shuffled into the military police. Recruited for the Special Investigation Branch when it was formed the year before, last July he’d been posted to Leeds to set up this new squad. A sergeant, like her, but his was an army rank. A good, fair boss.
‘Sent?’ Cathy asked. ‘What do you mean, sent?’
Faulkner closed his eyes for a second. ‘Your brother is with the Security Service,’ he said.
I hope you’re intrigued by a female character front and centre in a Leeds WWII thriller. If you’re registered there with my publisher, No Precious Truth will soon be available to read on NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review. If you’re not registered and fancy it, drop me a line and I’ll arrange it.
Or you could pre-order it, of course. Amazon has the Kindle edition of No Precious Truth pretty cheap in the UK and US. UK version here. In the UK, the cheapest hardback price is here. The cover’s pretty great, too.
And of course, the Kindle version of the latest Simon Westow book, Them Without Pain, is pretty decently priced in the UK. Find it here. The hardback is just over a tenner, too.
One final thing: Cathy arrives with her own soundtrack. Find the playlist here, but be prepared to dance and jitterbug.
A very quick not to say that while No Precious Truth isn’t out until April 1 next year, if you pre-order it on Kindle, the price is £10.39, as cheap as I’ve seen Amazon go an on unpublished book – they’re running it for $14.99 in the US. The link is here. I know, it’s Amazon, but Kindle is the big format. I have one.
If you’re catching up on the Simon Westow series, The Scream of Sins is currently £12.99 ($11.49). Buy it here. The first two in the series are just £2.99 – quite a deal.
For Tom Harper fans, Rusted Souls, the final book in the series is £10.39 on Kindle ($11.49). Grab it here. The first eight books in the series are all low priced for Kindle.
Look, I’m from Yorkshire. Our wallets squeak when we have to open them. We all need to save money.
Next April sees the publication of No Precious Truth, the first in a series featuring Woman Police Sergeant Cathy Marsden, who’s part of the Special Investigation Branch’s squad in Leeds.
But how did a woman serving in Leeds City Police end up there?
Here’s Cathy’s story. It’s the first in a series of posts about Leeds in World War Two to prepare you for next year. A little taste, if you will.
September, 1940
‘Sorry if I’m late, ma’am. I came as soon as I knew you were looking for me.’
‘I thought someone would find you soon enough.’ Inspector Harding sat behind her desk, all her papers carefully squared and ordered. After fifteen years of steady work on the force, she’d risen to be in charge of the women police constables.
From Flickr
‘Have I done something wrong, ma’am?’ The question had gnawed at her as she hurried up Briggate and the Headrow. She couldn’t imagine what, but…
Harding couldn’t help herself; she had to laugh. ‘No, Sergeant. It’s nothing like that. Sit down.’
‘Ma’am?’ Harding was always friendly, but one for order and boundaries.
‘Please, take a seat, Sergeant.’
Once Cathy was perched on the edge of her chair, the inspector began.
‘I’ve been watching you these last few months. I don’t know what’s changed, but you don’t look happy in the job.’
‘Ma’am?’ she said again. Had it been that obvious? And what was so urgent about a heart-to-heart? Something like this could wait until the end of shift.
‘Please, Marsden. I wasn’t born last week. It’s been obvious.’
‘If my work isn’t up to snuff-’
‘You work is as good as it’s always been. You been on the force for six years?’
‘Yes, ma’am.’ Where was the woman going with this?
‘Something’s shifted. It seemed as if it happened when we received those men who’d survived Dunkirk.’
That was all it took. She hadn’t intended to say much, but once she began, it all flooded out.
‘Well,’ Harding said in an easy voice when Cathy finished, ‘I think what we do is important. But I can understand how you feel.’ She took a cigarette case from her breast pocket and offer one to Cathy before lighting her own and blowing a think plume of smoke to the ceiling. ‘Tell me, if I can offer you something different, some far from your routine that might change things in the country a little, what would you say?’
‘I don’t know.’ Her mind was racing. She didn’t understand what the inspector meant. ‘What is it, ma’am?’
‘How would you fancy working in plain clothes for a little while?’
‘Me?’ she asked in disbelief. There were only eight women police officers in Leeds, and not a single one of them was in CID. Never had been, and never would be, if the top brass had their way. That was strictly male territory. A few forces had women detectives, but it would be a cold day in hell before it happened here. As it was, twenty years after the first policewoman was appointed in Leeds, they were still barely tolerated in uniform. ‘How?’
‘Have you ever heard of an outfit called the SIB? The Special Investigation Branch?’
‘No, ma’am.’ All her thoughts was spinning. After the way CID had treated her yesterday, she was suspicious. What would these SIB people expect her to be, the tea girl?
‘I’m not surprised. They only started up in the spring. They’re more or less the military police version of CID.’ She paused and gave a short, reassuring smile. ‘Different, though. They investigate crimes involving soldiers.’ Harding held up her finger before Cathy could open her mouth. ‘They have a big operation that’s just begun here. The head of their squad, Sergeant Faulkner, came to see me first thing about seconding a WPC to them for it. They need someone who knows Leeds very well. It might be exactly what you need.’
‘Why a policewoman, ma’am?’
‘Someone who’s used to disciplined thinking and can obey orders. Well trained.’
That made a curious kind of sense. But: ‘Why me?’
Harding gave a kindly smile. ‘Eighteen months ago you were promoted to sergeant. I fought for that because you’re the best I have. You’re a natural leader. The others ask you questions, they listen to you. They look up to you.’ Cathy blushed, feeling the heat rise on her face. ‘You’re very observant. You have a real way with people, too. You put them at ease. They open up when you talk to them. I don’t want you to leave the police. If I second you to SIB for their operation, I believe you’ll come back refreshed and raring to go. If not, then leave the police and find something else. Does that sound fair?’
Cathy stayed silent for a long time as fears and hopes chased each other around her head.
‘Do you honestly think I can do it, Ma’am?’
Another smile, this one glowing with satisfaction. ‘My reputation is one the line, Marsden. If I wasn’t certain, I’d never have put you forward for it.’
She scribbled an address on a scrap of paper and pushed it across the desk. ‘Go here and talk to Sergeant Faulkner. He’s expecting you. The SIB have their own office, separate from the army and us.’
Cathy tucked it in her uniform pocket, stood and saluted. ‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘There’s one condition, and I made this very clear to Sergeant Faulkner: if I need you back for something, the police take precedence. You understand?’
I’ve been quiet, I know, but I’ve been busy writing. Just as well, too, as yesterday I signed a contract with my publisher for two new books. I’d hope for one, but two, well, that left me overjoyed.
One is for the eighth Simon Westow novels, currently called A Rage Of Souls, and which is about half done (the project that’s kept me busy), and the other is for a second Cathy Marsden novel, set in 1942 and with the tentative title of 0 Dark 30. That one will appear in Spring 2026 – I know, reaching science fiction dates here, but the first Cathy novel, No Precious Truth isn’t out until next May.
Yesterday my research for the new Westow took me (and Jane) out to the lovely St Mary’s Chapel in Lead, always such a joy.
St Mary’s ChapelFrom inside
I’ve been busy planting in the allotment, too, and relishing the growth as the weather grows warmer; had the first strawberry of the season yesterday and it was deliciously sweet. But plenty of rain has made the slugs believe everything popping out of the ground and is all you can eat buffet…and so it becomes a battle, while I pray for no rain.
And the final thing was my computer gave up the ghost. I’ve had a spare, a laptop, waiting in the wings for months, but it still takes take to make the transition, all the programs, transferring data. I’m obsessive about backing up my work in several places, so nothing was lost.
Meanwhile, I’m beginning to gear up for the release of the seventh Simon Westow book in September. It has its foundation in a piece of Leeds history that should be better known. But you can pre-order the book now. The cheapest price for the hardback is here.
Chris Nickson 