A Rage Of Souls has been out in the world for just over a week. I’m grateful to everyone who’s bought it and (hopefully) enjoyed the book.
I’ve attempted some wit in marketing it in photos, puns around the theme of rage. Has it worked? Who can tell. But it amuses (me, if nobody else), and perhaps it jogged one or two people into buying.
All the Rage
That first week is crucial for a book. It’s when that critical first momentum takes place. This book has been off to a good start. The trick is to try and keep that going.
Maybe this can give sales a little boost. None of it is my doing; I’m not sure my publisher had a band in it, either. Whatever the reason, I’m not complaining.
Out- Rage
In the UK, the price for the Kindle version has dropped to £7.99 – you can buy it here. A hair over two cups of coffee. It’s $9.99 in the US (follow this link). If you’ve been thinking about a punt on it but felt it was too expensive before (it was, in my view), now is your time. I honestly think the book will convince you once to start reading. You can always download a free sample and try it out. How’s that for a deal.
It does get better. If you like that, Them Without Pain, the book that preceded it in the series, is only £8.54 in the Uk (look here) and £8.99 for the hardback. The US hardcover is $18.54. The entire series is very reasonably priced; the first two are just £2.99 for the ebooks.
A Rage Of Souls is the final Simon Westow novel. I’d be very grateful if you gave him a grand send-off.
Right now, and I don’t know how long it will last, Amazon has Them Without Pain on sale in the UK only. It’s £12.93 for the Kindle edition and a very low £13.61 for the hardback. Find it here.
Christmas is coming and books make good gifts – and I could use the sales. I have no idea how long this will last.
This is a wonderful review to receive. Booklist, a publication that’s influential with librarians (and bookseller) in the US, praised the Simon Westow series as “a real find for historical-mystery fans.” That’s sumptuous enough paise, but the reviewer concludes: “Brimming with Nickson’s trademark period details, memorable characters, and realistic portrayal of life in nineteenth-century England—but also filled with frightening twists, bloody violence, suspense, and danger—this may just be Nickson’s best Simon Westow book yet.”
Best Simon Westow yet? I’ll gladly take that! A reader who’s read it – maybe through NetGalley where it’s available, hint hint – also thought it was the best yet.
Maybe I’m doing something right. Well, there has to be a first time.
If you’re not on NetGalley, you can pre-order the book, which comes out September 3, or ask your library to order in a copy. Believe me, it would all be gratefully received.
If I may, one final request. If you’d care to leave a review somewhere, that would be wonderful.
I’ve no idea why, but Pitfall Street, a few yards downstream from Leeds Bridge, has long been my favourite street in Leeds. No reason for it. It’s only a few yards long, blink and you miss it as you pass on the Calls.
But I’ve used it in many books – I think it’s there in every Simon Westow – and it has much more history than anyone would imagine today.
Look at it from Leeds Bridge and it’s a gap between building. But look down towards the waterline and you’ll see the openings in the stonework. They let in water for the Leeds Water Engine, designed and built by engineer George Sorocold.
The engine powered the water through lead pipes up to a reservoir in a relatively high point in Leeds, up neat St John’s Church on the far side of the Headrow. From there, pipes made of elm went to the houses of those who paid for it. Piped water was a revelation for the time.
However, Pitfall had been in use long before that – there’s no record of its origin- with a pair of cloth fulling mills powered by water flowing along the Aire; it might originally have been a path leading to the mills; that makes as much sense as anything. The fulling mills were replaced by a rape seed mill, one of several around town. That in its turn, became the housing for the water engine.
How did Pitfall acquire its name? I wish I knew. It certainly has a sinister aspect. For many years it was simply Pitfall; the Street is much more recent.
But it still holds some kind of magic for me.
And just to remind you, Them Without Pain is published in hardback on September 3. Nod’s as good as a wink, right?
A curious title, isn’t it? It’s actually an oblique reference to a Jimmy Buffett song. I’ve never heard it, I’m not a fan of his music, but I always liked of it – the title “A Pirate Looks At Forty.”
But at seventy? Well, that’s coming up fast. Next week. None of the earlier milestones ever bothered me, but this seems to loom very large. A real intimation of mortality.
I’m keeping a tighter focus for my work, concentrating on my novels only, and an occasional album review to remind myself I was once a music journalist, and loved it. Music still moves me, but even in my little corner of it – roots and world music – so much is passing me by. It’s time for younger voices with a different language to brin g it all alive.
But the books…I have plenty to keep me going. The seventh Simon Westow novel, Them Without Pain, is coming out in two months, and I’m moving along with the eighth (eight? I’m not sure how that’s happened). In May next year, you’ll meet Woman Police Sergeant Cathy Marsden and a little down the line I’ll be joining up with her again in Leeds, this time in 1942. Like I say, ample to keep me going.
I do have a definite sense of time passing these days. It doesn’t worry me; I’ve always been a fatalist. Just don’t let me keel over until I’ve finished whatever I’m writing, because I’m the only one with a clue who it ends, and even them, I’m frequently not certain until I’m almost there. Probably a good reason to keep writing. It’s my talisman, my lucky charm.
I was a late bloomer. I’d always written, and published bits and pieces. But I was almost forty before the music journalism became regular and my first non-fiction quickie bio appeared. Quite a number of those followed, but I was 55 when the first novel – The Broken Token – landed in the world. Since then, 36 others have followed, 31 one of them set in Leeds.
I love this place and its history, even if I came to that later, too.
So yes, 70. No banners, no bunting, definitely no party.
Let it come and I’ll make of it what I can.
By the way, before you go, let me tell you a little about this upcoming novel, Them Without Pain.
This one adds an extra layer as it has a real root in local history: in 1696, goldsmith Arthur Mangey created the elaborate ceremonial Leeds Mace. Two years later, he was accused of treason for coin clipping (debasing the coinage), found guilty and hanged. It was a dubious conviction, at best. In testimony, someone claimed he had a secret workshop where he committed his crimes, but nobody searched for it.
In 1825, they knocked down the block where the workshop was supposed to be, and…they found it. Inside were two pairs of metal shears and an Elizabethan coin.
Those are the facts. In the fiction, the room also contains the body of a man Westow has been hunting who stole a set of silver cups made by Mangey. How does the past connect to the death – and who killed him?
It’s Regency noir, as dark as it can get, set in a town polluted by the growing number of factories belching out their smoke. A place where people arrive, hunting for work and pavements covered to gold, to find only scraps. But where the rich have money, and the criminals can be deadly.
If you’re on NetGalley and approved for Severn House, you can read it now (please leave a review!). If not, you can still pre-order it. Independent bookshops would love your business, but all your favourite places will carry it. Speedy Hen has the cheapest British price, plus free UK delivery. Just saying.
I know, I’ve been quiet for a while, and sorry about that. But I’ve been taking time to breathe a bit after the exhibition and event, and I’ve been writing. The next two Simon Westow books (The Scream of Sins and Them Without Pain) are with the publisher – Scream comes out in March – and I’m busy with the WWII novel featuring Woman Police Sergeant Cathy Marsden, currently seconded to the Special Investigation Branch.
The joy is in the research; the couch is a pile of books about the war (I’ve put together something called Cathy’s War Timeline, which is taped to the bookshelf next to the writing table) and I’m learning more and more. The book takes place in early 1941, so I don’t want to go beyond that; I’ll only confuse myself.
Plenty of great little Leeds details in there, like the barrage balloon at St James’s hospital that someone came free from its mooring. People hung on, tied it to a lamp post – and it tore up the lamp post. It was finally brought down near the city centre. How can you not love a tale like that?
Cathy herself is a joy, easing myself into her mind and her life, so I know how that coat feels on her back, how the gas mask case keeps banging against her hip. The walk down the blackout street to home on Brander Road in Gipton. She’s fully alive.
That’s for the future. It doesn’t have a title yet, but it’ll be appearing in summer 2025, a very distant time.
For now, though, the holidays loom, and I hope yours are all good, healthy and peaceful. Meanwhile, there’s a review of the Tom Harper exhibition and event here. If you prefer, here’s an image.
On, and if you haven’t bought it yet, Rusted Souls is a good gift both to give and receive.
No real apologies. After the intense pressure of arranging and putting on the exhibition, then taking it down again, I needed some time to decompress and focus on what I really do – write novels.
I’ve been busy there, which brings me to the really big news. The first part is that I finished going through the proofs for The Scream of Sins, the next Simon Westow novel, which will be published in March. If you thought the last couple of books in the series were dark, they’re like a day on the beach compared to this. Honestly, I’m immensely proud of it, and the redemption it finds.
Here’s the blurb:
Leeds, October 1824. Thief-taker Simon Westow’s job seems straightforward. Captain Holcomb’s maid, Sophie, has stolen important papers that could ruin the family’s reputation, and he’s desperate for their return. But the case very quickly takes a murderous turn, and it becomes clear the papers are hiding a host of sins . . .
During the search, Simon’s assistant, Jane, hears a horrific tale: men are snatching young girls from small towns for use by the rich. Those who are unwanted are tossed onto the streets of Leeds to survive among the homeless. With the help of an unlikely, deadly new companion, Jane will do everything to discover who’s responsible and make them pay.
Can Simon and Jane recover Holcomb’s letters and get justice for the stolen girls? It becomes a battle that might result in them losing everything . . . including their lives.
And here’s the cover:
The second piece of news is that I’ve signed a contract for, and completed, another Westow novel, called Them Without Pain, due in September next year. I’ll say it’s based on a true incident, and leave it at that for now.
Enough, right? Not quite. People have asked what I’ll do next, how that there will be no more Tom Harper books. I’ve started a new series, set in Leeds in World War II and featuring Police Sergeant Cathy Marsden of Leeds City Police. She lives with her parent on the Gipton estate, and has been seconded to something new, the Leeds squad of the Special Investigation Branch (the SIB really existed), so she’s working in plain clothes. I’m working on the book, greatly enjoying coming to know Cathy, the men she works with, her friends and family. That one is set to appear in June 2025. 2025…it’s science fiction.
In the meantime, I’ve had more people contact me about Rusted Souls than any other book I’ve written. Tom and Annabelle have touched a lot of people, and I thank you all. They’re both still alive within me. You can always buy the book for Christmas. It’s even better from an independent bookshop, too.
Chris Nickson 