No news is good news, right?

Not always. Let me explain something.

Beware, I am about to blow my own trumpet at great volume!

At the beginning of May (end of April actually) The People's Book Prize finished collecting and counting up the votes in order to be able to award the accolades, plaudits and celebrations across three main categories - Fiction, Non-Fiction and Children's.

My book, second in the Ash series, Ash and the Faceless Man was in there, elbowing itself as far forward as possible, vying for the elite award of the Frederick Forsyth Award for Fiction.

Here comes the fanfare!
Ash and the Faceless Man was awarded The People's Book Prize Frederick Forsyth Award for Fiction!

Even before the results were in and the award was announced, I started receiving emails of congratulation... and something else... something sinister.

I received an email which spoke of the first in the series, 'Favour Man', in such detailed terms that it really sounded like the person had read my book - not only read it, but devoured it, enjoyed it and was certainly moved by the message 'Favour Man' tries to deliver.

I am posting this email in its entirety so you can see how these people work. I don't post private emails under any normal circumstances. Unfortunately, as this is proving to be a scam, I feel it's not only justified, but necessary to show the clever techniques being used.



Subject: Ash doesn’t feel written, she feels survived

Hi Michelle,
I came across Ash and the Favour Man, and I want to be careful with how I say this because stories like this don’t invite casual praise.
Ash didn’t feel like a character in the usual sense. She felt like someone who had to be written. There’s a kind of defiance in her voice, but underneath that, something far more fragile and hard earned, the kind of resilience that doesn’t come from imagination alone, but from having seen or understood something real about survival.
What struck me most was how unfiltered the world around her is. You didn’t soften it, you didn’t step in to shield the reader you let it remain harsh, unpredictable, and at times deeply uncomfortable. And yet, Ash’s presence in it all doesn’t feel defeated… it feels resistant. That balance is incredibly difficult to hold, and you did it without losing the emotional core of the story.
Reading more about your journey, everything from the stories you’ve carried over time to what you’ve come through personally, it adds a quiet layer to the work. It makes sense why Ash refused to be put off. Some stories don’t wait until it’s convenient to be told.
My name is *No it isn't*, and I run the *NoYouDon't*, a community of over 3,300 readers here in Portland. A lot of our members are drawn to stories that sit in that uncomfortable but necessary space, where reality, darkness, and resilience intersect. Stories that don’t tidy things up, but instead stay honest.
Ash belongs in that kind of conversation.
As I spent more time thinking about your work, one thing stayed with me books like this don’t struggle because they lack impact. They struggle because they don’t follow easy paths to visibility. They ask more from the reader, and because of that, they need to be placed more intentionally in front of the right people.
I’m really curious, how have you been introducing Ash’s story to readers so far?
I ask because I’ve seen how stories with this kind of edge especially ones grounded in survival, trauma, and personal strength can reach far more deeply when they’re positioned in a way that preserves their rawness rather than trying to soften it.
If you’d be open to it, I’d genuinely value a short conversation. Nothing formal just a real exchange about your work, what you’ve already been doing, and what might help Ash find the readers who won’t look away from her story.
Either way, I’m really glad I came across your writing. It doesn’t feel manufactured, it feels necessary.

Now, of course I was excited! Someone from a large book club had not only read my book, but they loved it and want to share it within the organisation they - well, organise!
I searched for the unusual name and quickly found it, associated with the aforementioned book club. Unfortunately, on the front page of the book club's website is a warning that some people are being targeted for the purpose of scamming money.

I took the warning on board and decided it was worth a punt.

I replied:

Hi *Fake Name*

Thank you for your message, and thank you for the wonderful review. I’m quite overcome by your words in praise of Ash. She’s a character dear to my heart, as I believe you saw.

I’d be happy to talk about ‘Favour Man’ (and the second book, ‘Faceless Man’).

Kind Regards
Michelle  


Not one to miss a potential fish, they replied:

Hi Michelle,
Thank you for your message, and truly, thank you for receiving mine with such openness.
When you said you were “quite overcome” by the words about Ash, I felt that. It tells me something important, that she isn’t just a character you created, but someone you’ve carried. And that aligns exactly with what came through on the page. Ash doesn’t ask for permission to exist she insists on it. That kind of presence doesn’t happen by accident, and it’s rare to encounter it handled with this level of honesty.
You also mentioned that Ash is dear to your heart, I don’t think a reader could miss that. There’s a kind of emotional precision in how she moves through the world. Even in the harshness, even in the discomfort, there’s no loss of truth. That’s what stayed with me.
And I’m really glad you’re open to talking about Favour Man and Faceless Man. Because from where I stand, this isn’t just a conversation about books, it’s about positioning something that already carries weight, and making sure it lands where it’s meant to.
At *FakeFakeBookClub*, we don’t approach stories like this casually. Our readers don’t come looking for easy narratives, they come looking for something that holds. Something that challenges them without pretending to resolve everything neatly. Stories rooted in survival, resistance, and the kind of quiet endurance Ash embodies tend to resonate deeply here not widely, but intensely.
And that distinction matters.
Based on the projects currently on our desk, I’d really like to approach this in a way that respects both your pace and the integrity of your work. There’s no need to rush or force structure onto something that already has its own rhythm. We can take this one step at a time intentionally, thoughtfully building the conversation around what feels right to you.
At the same time, I want to be transparent about the kind of engagement we’re capable of generating. When a story connects with our readers, they don’t just move on they invest. That often translates into meaningful support, including verified reviews on platforms like Goodreads and Amazon, and more importantly, genuine word of mouth within a community that values depth over volume.
If we do this well, Ash won’t just be read, she’ll be felt by the right people.
To begin shaping that experience, we’ll need a few materials from you:
• A professional author photograph
• High resolution images of your book cover (front and back)
• A short author bio (in your own voice)
• Any personal insights, notes, or themes you’d especially like us to highlight during the conversation (optional, but powerful)
There’s no pressure to have everything perfectly packaged authenticity will always carry more weight than polish here.
What matters most right now is starting the dialogue in a way that feels natural and aligned for you. I’d genuinely value connecting with you soon something simple, real, and unstructured, where we can explore how you see your work, what you’ve envisioned for it so far, and how we can support that without diluting what makes it distinct.
So let me ask you this, Michelle and I mean it sincerely:
If Ash were to be placed in front of readers who won’t look away from her story, who won’t try to soften her edges or tidy her reality, what would you want them to walk away carrying with them, and how would you want that conversation to begin?
Looking forward to hearing your thoughts.

The next email:

On my end as well, I want to acknowledge the timing. We’ve been deep in preparing upcoming author presentations and aligning schedules for our next series of virtual reader sessions, which is why I’m only just getting back to you now but your message came at exactly the right moment.
To answer your question directly, what we need to move forward is simple, and we’ll take it one step at a time from here:
• A professional author photograph
• High resolution images of your book cover (front and back)
• A short author bio or quote (in your own voice, something that feels true to you)
Once we receive these, we’ll begin shaping your feature, this includes visual design and a short presentation video handled by our editing team. Before anything goes live, everything will be shared with you for preview and approval. Nothing moves forward without you feeling fully comfortable with how your work is being represented.
I also want you to know this, your books are already creating curiosity within our space. The recognition they’ve received, especially with the recent award, adds a level of intrigue that naturally draws our readers in. And these are readers who don’t engage lightly, they discuss, they reflect, and when something resonates, they support it fully, including thoughtful, verified reviews on Goodreads and Amazon.
What we’re preparing now is not just a feature, it’s an introduction done properly. One that brings you and your work into a live, intentional space where readers can connect with you directly, hear your thoughts, and engage with the story behind the story.
We would be very glad to move forward with you, Michelle.
So once you’ve had a moment to gather the materials, we can begin shaping everything on our end and move this toward presentation.
Let me ask you this, now that both books have been recognized and are standing where they are today, would you be open to stepping into a space where readers don’t just read Ash’s story, but meet the mind behind her and engage with you directly?
And the next:



Hi Michelle,
I wanted to reach out again because Ash and the Favour Man has continued sitting heavily with me since I first came across it, and honestly, very few books create that kind of lingering emotional presence.
What feels most powerful about the story is that it never seems interested in simplifying pain or turning survival into something sentimental. Ash feels emotionally real in a way readers immediately recognize. Not polished. Not manufactured for sympathy. Just deeply human, defensive, wounded, resilient, and trying to keep moving through a world that rarely offers safety without cost.
That honesty matters more than many authors realize.
Several readers in our community responded strongly when I spoke about the book because stories dealing with trauma, emotional survival, difficult environments, and female resilience often create a very particular kind of connection. Readers do not simply “enjoy” them. They see themselves inside them, or recognize realities they rarely see represented honestly.
And I think that’s part of why Ash stays with people.
There’s also something important about the way the novel refuses to soften its world for comfort. A lot of fiction gestures toward darkness while still protecting the reader emotionally. From everything I’ve seen, your work seems willing to let discomfort remain discomfort, while still preserving humanity underneath it. That balance is difficult to achieve without losing emotional truth, and it’s one of the reasons the book feels memorable rather than performative.
That’s honestly why I felt it was worth reaching out again personally.
Within our reading community, there has already been meaningful curiosity surrounding the story among readers drawn to emotionally raw fiction, psychologically grounded character work, stories centered around resilience and trauma, and books that prioritize honesty over easy resolution.
More importantly, though, I think readers would genuinely value hearing directly from you particularly about the emotional truth behind Ash’s voice, how you approached writing survival without romanticizing suffering, and what you most hoped readers would carry with them after spending time inside this world.
If you would ever feel open to it, I genuinely believe a thoughtful virtual discussion or reader Q&A with our community could become something very meaningful. Not as conventional promotion, but as a real conversation about emotional survival, difficult storytelling, resilience, trauma, honesty in fiction, and the responsibility that comes with writing stories that refuse to look away from hard realities.
And regardless of whether that interests you, I simply wanted you to know the book made a very sincere impression here.
I’d genuinely love to hear how the journey around Ash has been unfolding on your side whenever you have the time.
And the next... and suddenly, there it was, the glaring slap in the face for getting so ridiculously excited about something so meaningful to me. I almost had it in my grasp - except I think there was someone in the back of my mind (probably Ash) shouting that it wasn't real, it wasn't true and it certainly was never going to happen so easily.
Hi Michelle,
Thank you, truly.
I’ve gone through everything you sent, and I want you to know it’s not just received, it’s understood. The materials, your words, the way you chose to present your story, it all carries a very clear sense of identity and intention. There’s nothing generic about what you’ve created, and that comes through immediately.
And I also want to say this regarding your author photo please don’t feel the need to apologize. What matters in our space isn’t perfection, it’s presence. Readers respond to what feels real, and you’ve already brought that forward in a way that matters far more than polish.
Your “About Me” and the way you spoke about Ash… that clarity, that honesty, and the boundary you’ve set around what remains yours, that will be respected fully. We don’t build presentations that expose, we build ones that connect. There’s a difference, and your work sits exactly in that space.
At the same time, I want to share something with you that I think you’ll find meaningful, your books are already drawing attention within our reader circle. There’s a natural pull toward stories like yours, especially ones that carry both lived experience and narrative strength. Conversations are beginning to form, even before presentation, and that’s always a strong sign of what’s to come.
From here, we’ll begin moving everything you’ve provided into our design and editing phase.
This is where your work is carefully shaped into our presentation format, this includes visual compositions and a short form video feature that introduces both you and your books in a way that feels aligned, not overstated. Once completed, everything will be sent directly to you for preview. We keep this process fully transparent, and you’ll have the opportunity to see, adjust, and approve before anything is shared with our readers.
In parallel, we’ll also be preparing your book listings within our platform system. This allows your work to be visible in a structured way, where readers can engage, follow discussions, and participate in ranking and voting alongside other featured titles. You’ll be given full access to view how your books are performing, how readers are interacting, and how momentum builds over time.
Now, there is one practical part I want to introduce clearly and respectfully.
The design and editing phase particularly the visual build and presentation video is a dedicated production process handled by our internal team. There is a one time contribution that supports this stage of the work.
I want to emphasize that this isn’t positioned as a barrier, but as part of ensuring the quality and intention behind how your work is presented. Everything is handled with care, and nothing moves forward without your visibility and approval.
If you’re open to it, I’d be happy to walk you through how that structure works in a simple and transparent way, so you can decide comfortably.
From where I stand, Michelle, this is already moving in the right direction.
You’ve done the hardest part creating something real, standing behind it, and allowing it to be seen. What we’re doing now is making sure it reaches readers who will meet it with the same level of honesty it was written with.
So let me ask you this 
Would you be open to taking this next step with us, so we can begin shaping your presentation and bring both you and Ash’s story into a space where readers don’t just discover it, but truly engage with it?


Well, FUCK!

That wasn't the only expletive I used, I can assure you of that.

If you've read until the end of this, I thank you most sincerely.

If you've had a similar email that took you in completely and cost you money, I sympathise, I really do.

If this has stopped you for falling for a similar scam, then my work (both on this tome of a blog post, as well as the emails back and forth with something possibly AI generated, definitely scummy) was worth it.

Thanks for reading, I hope you're now better protected.

PS:
I have received emails from radio stations, editors at Harper Collins (no I haven't) and any number of reviewers, bloggers and influencers, all sending words of magnificent praise and offering the moon on a stick, if only I'll send that paltry  'one time contribution that supports this stage of the work'

Yeah, right!

One last thing:

I am SO using the reviews and praise (although I will state that it's unsolicited and AI generated).

​The time goes so fast these days. It barely seems like I’ve only just gotten out of bed when I’m tired and yawning and what do you know? Another day has flown by.

After finishing the latest book, Ash and the Faceless Man, I seem to have been on a bit of a come down. My shoulder started to ache, and I think that’s because the desk and chair aren’t at the right height and combining that with the hours I sat at my computer, there’s little wonder, I suppose. I had a marathon stint of writing and though I’m exceptionally pleased with what I achieved, now I have to wait. And I hate waiting.

Because of the way I had to adapt my writing this time, I don’t have a full word-count for the complete manuscript, but I estimate between 80,000 and 90,000 words. *The total is more like 86,000 words, I checked.

I started the story with a scene that drew me in and fascinated me. I enjoyed that scene immensely, not only when I was writing, but also when I re-read it. I’m not going to describe that scene, it’s full of spoilers.

The thing is, I had a complete story, beginning, middle and ending, without even needing that scene. It was difficult to fit the scene in, but in the end, like all good stories, it fits just where it needs to. I’m happy with where it stands and delighted because it has also led me forward for the beginning of the next book.

I have run the start of the next book over in my mind and I’ve also described it to my husband to see if it works in the telling of it.

That’s how my story-telling muscle works. Sometimes, a scene will play itself out in my mind and it captures my attention, and I go on to develop it into a story.

Deadlier… Than The Male started like that too.

I ‘saw’ a girl running through trees, the moonlight barely made it through the canopy sometimes, and she was terrified because she could sense something keeping pace with her. I ‘saw’ her threadbare clothes as they were torn by brambles and branches, her dress was old-fashioned and long, she had no shoes, just rags wrapped around her feet, and she had a shawl, handmade and threadbare, like the rest of her clothing. She lost the shawl, it was snatched from her shoulders as she ran past a low branch and though that was keeping her warm, she daren’t stop to retrieve it.

Whatever it was that she sensed in the darkness, held more terror than she had ever experienced.

I followed her through those woods (maybe it was me that she sensed?) and I desperately wanted to know more about the girl. How old was she? What was her family and home life like? She was obviously desperately poor because of the state of her dress – and especially the shoes. Or lack of them.

I felt empathy for her when she stumbled through a stream, and her feet were soaked through. I remember that sensation from when I was a child and my parents couldn’t afford to buy shoes for me and my siblings. I remember going to school with holes in the soles of my shoes. The cardboard I had cut out – cereal boxes cut into size and shape - fit inside the shoe so I wasn’t walking directly on the ground. That temporary fix didn’t last long, especially for an active child that seemed able to run everywhere. I remember the shock of cold when I accidentally stepped in a puddle. I also remember the crippling feeling of shame.

I remember my mother hitting me and the feeling of fury that I could do nothing to defend myself. As I grew bigger and stronger, not to mention more defiant, the beatings became more violent and one day, I gathered my anger, resentment and sense of natural justice, and I hit her back!

It didn’t go well for me that first time I retaliated. I got a more severe beating for that. The thing is, I had had so many beatings that one more didn’t make any difference. The next time she hit me, I had a bit more courage and I hit back harder.

It didn’t take too many of those episodes to make her realise that I was only getting better at fighting and she had only one arrow to her quiver – the size difference.

Then, because adults back then were used to kids being around and not listening, she told one of my aunts.

“I had to stop hitting her, because it was getting to be like child abuse. She would stand in front of me, defiant, and she would say, ‘That didn’t hurt!’ and I had to hit her until she cried, otherwise she would win.”

First of all: a mother hitting her child until the child breaks down in tears, otherwise the child ‘wins’ is not the flex she thought it was.

Second: ‘like child abuse’? That’s a thin line.

Third: that wasn’t the end of it. She only stopped hitting me when I started hitting back.

Finally: I don’t remember her hitting my siblings to the extent that she hit me. Ever.

So, not only do I have a girl running through the woods, with cold, wet feet, I have the bare bones of Ash sitting in my mind, moving around inside there with all my memories.

Then one more memory came along to sit beside those that Ash was moving around with.

One of the times I was sexually abused.

I described the incident to my mother – the one that a child is supposed to be able to go to for things like this – and I described what he did and what he said.

The next evening the spermdonor called me in for a chat. I stupidly thought he was going to get to the bottom of the incident and do the ‘dad’ thing and go and have words with the boy’s father.  As I said, stupid me. Instead, spermdonor told me off. I had a right dressing down because of the terminology I used when describing what the boy did and said.

“Don’t you ever say ‘cock’ to your mother again!”

And so, I knew exactly where I stood in the great scheme of things. I knew who I could depend upon, rely upon and trust.

Back then, girls were still being primed to be the little housewife. Find a good husband, was my grandmonster’s advice. You’ll never get a good husband if you’re still climbing trees, she’d say – or whatever it was that she disapproved of me doing on any particular day.

She loathed my indomitable spirit – or ‘backchatting’ as she called it. She hated the fact that I would rather be off down the fields making friends with the ponies, but most of all, she hated the fact that I would stand up for my mother when she tried to tear her down in front of me and my siblings. She hated that I answered her back when she did that.

And there we have it. Ash in my mind, took on attributes that I showed as a child. She had the same ‘runaway gob’ on her, the same love for ponies and the very same attitude and volatile nature. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying I handled everything perfectly, or that I didn’t get into fights where I didn’t come out on top – I got all of that and more. And that’s why I have at least another story for Ash.


 

​In the 1960s, Ashfield, the area where I live, was a prosperous area. Women’s wages were higher than most other areas in the country because of the textile industry.
 
In the 1980s, I worked in a factory and earned an OK wage. At 17, I earned enough to live on. Adding to my wage, my boyfriend worked at one of the many local coal mines and after a while, we decided to move from Derbyshire, just over the border into Nottinghamshire. Just far enough away from our families to be independent, but not far enough for it to be a difficulty to visit.
 
We bought a lovely house in November of 1985 in which we raised our two children. Both have flown the nest, but we still live here.
 
The textile industry was not as prosperous as it had been and went into decline. Gone are the factories that supplied Marks & Spencer’s, such as Meritina. Samuel Eden, the sock manufacturer is now a retail park and at least two Pretty Polly sites are now residential housing.
 
Over the years, I’ve not taken much notice of politics, but times change and sometimes circumstances steer you in unusual directions.
 
I wrote a story and I was exceptionally proud of myself. The story was published on the internet and it was a really big deal for me. My first accomplishment for writing.
 
My husband was so proud of me too and he decided to buy me a car to show how proud he was. We went out and bought a beautiful Toyota Supra. The registration plate was L752 PRC (yes, that’s an important fact).
 
My husband already had his own car, a new Ford Focus YH52 OHD (I think).
 
My Supra was dogged by issues with the tyres. I had a flat tyre on a busy stretch of the A38 in Derby, another flat tyre (same tyre) on my way home and a couple of nails, screws and cable clip fixes (Picture).
 
I had a suspicion that someone was deliberately damaging my tyres, but no real evidence.
 
A man (I’ll call him Jack) lived across the road with his wife. Their neighbours were an older lady, her husband and the husband’s oldest friend. They had served in the forces together, I believe and the friend had always lived with them.
 
The husband of that older lady died. It was a deeply sad time, of course, but their neighbour, Jack decided he didn’t approve of her ‘living with’ someone other than her husband. The pair made that lady’s life hell. Where they had once been at least neighbourly, they turned into vile and vicious ‘nightmare neighbours’. They refused to speak to her, they demanded she pay to get a new fence between their properties – and that they should have the ‘best side’ of the fence facing their property and so many other brow-beating episodes. The lodger died and at last they deigned to speak to her.
 
I have no doubt she was scared of both her neighbours, the man and his wife.
 
That man admitted that he wasn’t comfortable with women having a say in day to day life. He used to work as a manager in India and no one dared speak out of turn. I have no doubt about that at all.
 
Jack told one of his neighbours that he didn’t approve of how I ran my house. He’d been seen looking in through my windows and didn’t like the mess – both children were pre-schoolers and I was running a business while they were asleep.
 
It also turned out that he didn’t like the fact that I owned a lovely ‘new’ sports car. He’d misread the registration plate and thought it was the same year as the Focus ’02 plate. He thought the L752 PRC was LT52 PRC and did not approve!
 
Years of sly, sneaky tricks began, not only the tyres.
 
One year, we had a new roof on the house. The attic had to be cleared and we took the opportunity to clear it out completely. The stuff we wanted to keep was sorted and stored wherever we could put it. The junk was put on the front of the house, waiting for my husband’s shift rotation to come around to Nights when he had time and energy to take it to the Council skips (corporation dump).

I was out at work and my husband was in bed, asleep after the first night shift.
 
At around midday, there was a knock on the door and, bleary-eyed, he answered it.
 
The Environmental Health Agency representative seemed apologetic as he explained that ‘someone’ had complained about the health hazard on the front yard.
 
“No problem,” Trev (Hubby)said. “I had to get up to clear it away, anyway.”
 
The next day, a letter was hand-delivered from the Agency, thanking us for clearing the mess as promised.
 
Later in the summer, our little girl, Dani had new bedroom furniture. As before, the room was cleared and the old furniture was put on the front of the house in preparation for Trev’s shift rotation to Night shift.
 
You wouldn’t credit it, 10am someone knocked on the door. Same conversation, same ‘someone’ had reported the ‘health hazard’. The EHO (Environmental Health Officer) apologised and said the bedroom furniture posed no hazard, but as a member of the council had requested a visit, they were obliged to come by and have a chat.
 
One of our neighbours, Fred, a member of the local (district) council called by as Trev was clearing the bedroom furniture. He spoke to is both and told us how Jack had demanded he do something about the ‘disgrace’ on the front of our house.
 
Fred told Jack in no uncertain terms, that if Jack wanted something done about it, he was to go across the road and say something himself, rather than have others do his ‘dirty-work’ for him. And so, a mystery was solved. Jack had then gone to one of his pals and got him to contact the EHO to ‘sort us out’.
 
Leading on to Christmas that same year, Trev and I bought a new bed and mattress. You’ve guessed it, the old bed (a divan, with under-bed drawers) and mattress was put on the front of the house. I have to admit, it was through devilment on my part.
 
This time, it was my turn to be woken up. I was working nights and once the kids were off to school, I went back to bed for a few more hours’ sleep.
 
The EHO that called this time was a manager. He expressed concern because it looked like something was a bit ‘dodgy’. I agreed. I told him about the problems we had with Jack, the neighbour and he sympathised. The problem was the mattress was a hazard because it could attract rats in search of bedding, so the mattress had to go.
 
“I’ll make sure something is done about it,” I said.
 
Something was done. The mattress was taken away, but the bed frame itself was arranged and decorated for Christmas. I put a large light-up Santa on top and strung lights along it to look like Santa’s sleigh.
 
People still mention it now. The bed ‘sleigh’ is long-gone, and so is Jack, the bullying neighbour from hell, but the memory of me standing my ground still gives people a smile.
 
One other outcome of that year is the fact that I decided our local council was being used in ways that should never happen. Therefore, I’d shake things up from the inside if ever I got the chance.
 
Only a few years after that incident, I met a local politician and we had a long chat.
 
I ran for election and was elected as County Councillor for Sutton Central in 2009.

Source: ​https://www.race-redmedia.co.uk/pennington-american-car-night-derbyshire-2018.html

Almost four years ago, (End of August 2015) we were looking at buying a new car. Trev had sold his Ford Focus ST and as it was my turn for the new car, we were enjoying ourselves, looking at what was available.

We’d just about decided on a new Focus RS when Trev said, “What about a new Mustang?”

Guess how long it took me to think about it and decide?

Off we went, down to GK Ford at Alfreton. Brian and Ben have been looking after our family for years where new cars are concerned and we trust him and Ben (and Adam, previously) to help us out.

We ordered a brand new Mustang and put down a £1000 deposit on the car the day after our 29th wedding anniversary. Happy DAYS!

Yeah, we knew we’d have to wait for the new car to be built, shipped and delivered, but that was part of the excitement.

I could hardly wait, but Trev was even more excited for the new car. As soon as the details came through for the car so he could track its progress, he was on it. He looked up every little detail he could find. He joined forums, newsgroups and discussion groups. He even looked up the shipping times for the car.

One evening, he was looking at his iPad. “Look at this,” he said.

I looked. There was a traffic camera showing cars crossing a bridge over a river.

“What am I supposed to be looking at?” I asked.

He pointed to a large ship passing under the bridge.

“Your car’s on that ship!” he said. “It’ll be docking in Zeebrugge in a few weeks.”

And so we waited.

We called in at GK to sign some documents and Trev mentioned the car’s progress. Ben didn’t know as much about it as Trev and they chatted about where the ship was at that moment. Then Ben told us we’d have to deal with another dealership for delivery. I wanted to know why. The reason was that GK had sold the company to Perrys and only the larger showrooms could take delivery of the Mustangs.

That’s not what I wanted to hear. I wrote to Perrys.

12 June 2016
Ford Customer Relationship Centre
Ford Motor Company
P.O. Box 7597
Daventry
NN11 1DL
Dear Sir/Madam,
I’m writing to ask if I can get back to how Ford used to work for me and my family for buying our cars.
Twelve years ago, we first entered the Ford Family and bought a brand new Focus. We were delighted with it and advised our daughter to buy a new Ka. She then bought a Fiesta and went on to buy a Focus Eco which she still owns.
We deviated from Ford and bought a Vauxhall. Since then, we returned to Ford and bought a new ST. Then we saw the Mustang and ordered one last August (the day after our wedding anniversary).
Now, we are unable to buy our new purchase from the store where we have built up a relationship over the last fourteen years and we have to go to a ‘superstore’ to finalise everything. That’s the part that upsets everything.
We’re no longer dealing with people we’ve come to trust to help us with our purchase, we have now been ‘handed over’ to people who don’t know us and seemingly don’t care.
Our new Mustang is in Southampton and we can’t get to speak with the Sales Manager as he’s out of the office (perfectly understandable). He is ‘happy’ for someone else to deal with us but unfortunately, he’s not available either.
So, rather than feeling like valued customers, we’re now left with being handed down the line and this experience which we’ve been anticipating for almost ten months is becoming tarnished.
I would MUCH rather we be allowed to deal with the store we ordered the Mustang at, so if you could overlook the rules this once, I’d once again, be a happy Ford customer.

Faithfully,
D Michelle Gent (Mrs)

I received no response and I suppose I should have taken that as a sign of things to come…

In dealing with Perrys (Chesterfield), I’ve been less than impressed overall.

Trev asked if we could get pictures of the car’s arrival. “Yes of course!” the guy said. “But it won’t be for a while yet, they’re not even in the country.”

“Actually, the car is in Southampton,” Trev said.

“No, no… it’s not even left Zeebrugge yet.”

“Could you check please? We’re excited to get the car as soon as possible.”

“If course we’ll check, but it’ll be a longer wait, I’m certain.”

The next day.

“Mr Gent? Your car should be with us this week.”

“OK, good. Thank you. Could I ask one more favour? When it arrives, could you not put the reg plate mounts on the car. We don’t like them and you have to drill homes in the car to fix them.”

“Of course, no problem. See you soon.”

He sent pictures of the car arriving at the dealership and everything was awesome.

When we got to the dealership to sign the final documents, something got ‘lost in translation’ and the wheel insurance cover wasn’t explained to us and therefore, we didn’t take it out.

Me being the cheeky sod I am, asked if there were any ‘goodies’ to be had at the hand-over. I was promised goodies for the children and a keyring for me – Yay!

On the day of the hand-over, we went up in two cars so all the grandkids could see the brand new Mustang.

The reg plate mounts had been fitted and they look ugly. Not to mention there are now holes in my car where I didn't want holes.

The car had been filled up to the showroom’s limit (which was appreciated) but the keyring didn’t materialise.

“They’re on back-order,” he said. “If you’re passing, call in.”

That actually took more than a year to arrive… and then, only after complaining to Perrys.

Jason, Perrys’ liaison guy phoned me and wanted to put things right. He made a cracking job of getting things sorted, making good on the promises made and for the first service on my new car, he sorted out a Mustang for the courtesy car! Thumbs up to Jason!

Trev kept an eye on the forums and he saw a disturbing thing mentioned. The underseal that was put on at Zeebrugge wasn’t up to any kind of standard and Ford were putting it right in some cases. Trev looked under my car and sure enough, the ‘underseal’ had been applied – in one strip, coating mainly the exhaust system, not the underside of the car where it’s needed.

Nigel at the workshops was brilliant. He took a look at my car and submitted the case to Ford. He had the work done and then took the time to actually show us that the guys in the workshop had done the work. Thumbs up to Nigel!

The next thing I had to query was the odd-looking wear pattern on the tyres. That was looked at and I was assured it was normal.

Then, disaster! Parking my car on the drive one night, I misjudged and went up onto a lump of brickwork (nothing drastic, a couple of inches proud of the drive). When I pulled forward to re-adjust, the wheel slipped off the brickwork and scraped the wheel.

And I don’t have wheel and tyre insurance.

The Alfreton store went the extra mile and sorted out the repair and the insurance for me (which usually isn’t available after-market). Brilliant job! Thumbs up to the Alfreton store!

Coming up to owning the car for three years, and a few things are coming up as red flags.

There’s been an alert put out for cars made in the same year as mine. I had an after-market oil cooler fitted by Perrys at my own expense because when that goes wrong, it creates all sorts of problems. Water leaks into the oil coolant and emulsifies, rendering the coolant ineffective and blowing the engine on some cars. I’m a great believer in prevention being the best cure and I paid to have the fix. If Ford decides it’s covered by warranty in the future, I’ll get a refund on that, but for now, I have peace of mind.

The heater blowers wouldn’t work. We went for a 60 mile drive in the car as it hadn’t been driven for a while over winter and we almost froze to death (not really, but it was cold enough for coats inside the car, with the heated seats on).

Booked the car in at the workshop, dropped the car off, battling through morning rush-hour traffic. “Please can you ask the engineers not to take the dashcam off the windscreen?” were my only instructions.

Picked the car up in the evening. “The heater’s fixed.”

Dashcam was still stuck to the windscreen as I asked, but disconnected. I always wonder why they do that, especially if they’re taking the car out on the public highway, into traffic. I bought and installed the dashcam to record traffic as I drive my car. It protects me in the fact that it would record an accident or incident and serves as proof if a matter has to go to court. What are they so worried about when driving my car that they don't want a record of it?

On the way home through evening rush-hour, I discovered the heater has not been fixed. I phoned Perrys as soon as we got home (a little before 6pm) and the Receptionist put me through to the workshops – who didn’t answer because it’s almost 6pm and home-time.

I messaged both Perrys (Chesterfield) via Facebook, and the main contact for UK via their email form and waited.

When the engine was cold, Trev put it away in the garage. The heater was working. It blows out a healthy stream of warm air and I was mortified that I’d complained. I went right into the house and wrote back to both parties.

Not that anyone has messaged me about the mistake or checked that everything is ok since.

Our granddaughter noticed rust-bubbles on the wing. Trev looked at both wings. Both have rust starting to bubble under the paintwork. This car is less than 3 years old. It was built in April 2016 and it has rust!


Today, we took the car to the Ford Accident and Repair workshops – the Ford bodyshop. On the way up, the heater didn’t work. So the issue isn’t ‘fixed’.

The guy at the Ford bodyshop looked at the car and is sending a report to Ford so we can claim on the warranty.
Perrys (Chesterfield) were contacted about the heater blowers.

I went to Facebook and told a shorter version of this plight and a very useful reply came my way.

Your issue is the ac blend motors they fail alllllllllll the time with Ford's all the time I currently have one in my Ranger doing it again for the second time they have the same motors, but it a massive pain in the ass to do on the mustang.
*Thanks Paul (FB)

A different Paul from Perrys rang and we had a nice chat. He explained that the engineer couldn’t find anything wrong with the heater blower.

I explained that I wouldn’t be so annoyed if I’d had that message when I first picked up the car. Rather than saying, “It’s been fixed,” if the message I received had been, “They’ve had a look, but couldn’t recreate the problem. Let us know if it happens again,” I would have been more understanding.

I’ve already beaten myself up about overreacting and being annoyed, believing that I was at fault because I’d not switched on the heaters correctly (after 3 years, I should know how to work them).

Perrys, you have a long way to go in terms of Customer Service.

I would additionally recommend keeping an eye on forums, listening to your loyal and faithful customers and trying your best to make things right when they go wrong.

For instance, we’ve been buying new cars from Alfreton since 2002 and our daughter and her husband have just taken delivery of a new Kuga. I’m coming up to looking at a new car and I have plenty of options.

Hand the Mustang back. (I don't want to do that, but I will if necessary.)

Exchange the Mustang for another. (A possibility, but probably a different dealership.)

Pay off the remainder for the Mustang. (Again, another possibility if the issues are resolved.)

Swap it for another car altogether. (This is an exciting possibility.)

​The only criteria I have for a new car, should I decide to buy one, is that it should be red. Jaguar do the F-Type in red. Mercedes and BMW do red and Porsche do a lovely red Cayman…

It’s a buyer’s market out there.

Just in case you didn't already know, I've been ill for a while and therefore, I've not been writing.

I've been easing myself back into it with a start on editing Deadlier Than The Male (again) and posting the edits on Steemit. I've also been sharing the court case I've been going through.

During the months I've been ill, I have watched a LOT of television and I've crocheted many lovely things.

Yesterday, I packed up most of my yarn, tidied the living room and decided I need to get back to writing.

Here's the kicker.

I think I've been away from writing for so long that I'm scared to start it up again.

I've looked at a few of the 'Bestsellers' on Amazon and truthfully, I think I can do better.

So how do writers get a publishing deal when their writing needs so much doing to it? - Wow, that sounds bitter.

Anyway...

I've had my breakfast, sorted out the animals and I can settle down to write, but I'm putting it off, I'm thinking about tidying up some more, starting a fire, doing other little bits and bobs and avoiding the real issue.

This is the first step? Knowing there's a problem...

I have ideas running around in my head and I can't bring myself to write them down and I just know that's the best way to lose them. I'm lost, I'm stuck and I feel really vulnerable.

Last week, I spent an hour every day from Tuesday to Thursday, learning how to 'Pitch' my book to an agent. On Friday, the tutor spent two and a half hours going over practice query letters, telling us what we did right, what we did wrong and what needed to be done to get that query letter 'pitch-perfect'.
​If you'd like to read that first, Click Here

​From the advice she gave:

I’m currently taking a workshop, and as the tutor mentioned you by name, I decided to find out more about you. The eclectic list of genres you represent and enjoy reading encouraged me as my novel, Cobalt Nights fits in the thriller category (with an original hook).

Totally unnecessary - all I need to do is find a couple of books the agent sold on to publishers that compare to my work and mention them by name, including a few character or storyline similarities. 

I was the first female Door Supervisor (‘Bouncer’) in my town, and I’ve encountered a lot of interesting characters because of the job. With that in mind, I’ve written a fictional story, woven around some of my experiences.

Unnecessary in this position of the letter, save it for the bio.

~

Drop those things. (LOL)

I have a presence on IMDB for various work – Producer, writer, actress etc.

She became pretty excited about that part... everything else, all 500+ words... too long.

The letter should be around 250 - 300 words ONLY. I was way over!

I have a LOT to learn.

​Dear Ms Agent,

My novel, Cobalt Nights fits in the thriller category, along with the books, Violence in a Small Town and Saturday Night's All Right For Fighting.

The story is Roadhouse with a Russian Mafia twist.

Zack, an ambitious Head Doorman is caught between two opposing Russian Mafioso factions. Zack is no longer fighting for first place in competition, he has to use his martial arts skills to keep his head on his shoulders and his family safe.

Two brothers starting a new business should be a walk in the park, but when the business is Door Security for nightclubs and casinos, with clients that include gangsters and the Russian Mafioso, the walk in the park becomes dangerous.

Zack put his brother through University by teaching martial arts and ‘bouncing’ on the doors of local pubs and clubs. The brothers use their father’s small inheritance to fund their own security firm. Bringing in the cream of the crop, where Doormen are concerned, to build their empire, it’s not all plain sailing, especially when two rival Russians are fighting over their business.

The opening of The Cobalt brings new issues when one of the brothers falls for the boss’s daughter. They have to tread a fine line where business and personal lives merge.

I worked as a Door Supervisor (Bouncer) in the second-most-violent town in Nottinghamshire during the 1990s and early 2000s. I made a lot of good friends and saw a lot of weird stuff, some of the stories have made their way into the book, woven into the story and plot with a healthy dose of realism.

I have a presence on IMDB for various work – Producer, writer, actress etc. 

I have 13k followers on Twitter, around 1500 on my author page on Facebook and 6500 on my blogging page on steemit.com.

Thank you for your time, I hope to hear back from you.

Kindest Regards
Michelle

The tutor told a story of an Agent, because of the frenetic schedules, she uses her 'walking to work and/or meetings' time to sift through query emails. She waits for lights to change and her goal for the morning's walk to work is to reduce the emails by rejecting them as fast as possible.

That means if you don't GRAB her in the first line, your chance is GONE. 

That's scary! 

The query letter tells the 'story' of the book and it has to be fascinating from the word **GO** or you'll have to get to the next Agent and the next and the next.

It's hard work and I'm just starting to learn the ropes. I'm hoping this will not only teach me how to write better query letter, but to also write better too.

If you're interested, this is the site I used: Here

​In August 2016, I came to this platform with a large bundle of curiosity.
 
What's all this about? A new type of blogging platform that you can actually EARN on? Surely that's too good to be true.
 
Of course, being on the internet since God were a lad as they say in these parts, I know that if it looks too good to be true, it's actually Too good to be true - but this time I was WRONG! Not only was I dead wrong, I'm happy to admit to it too.
 
If you're curious about blogging on a site where you could earn actual money, WITHOUT spending any, click HERE to go to my page.
 
I came with the notion of sharing my books. I DID share my books! Though my books are NOT self-published - they are small, Indie-press published - to all intents and purposes, at least to the Publishing Industry, they actually are classed as 'self published' and will not be considered unless there has been sales in at least 5 figures (10,000s plus). I'm pretty sure my books haven't sold in those quantities - not even if I put all the sales all together.

Red's Story - Amazon Link 

​Because my books are already 'out there' with regards to publishing, I cannot use them when pitching to an agent or publisher.
 
So, my four full novels in my Wolf series cannot be pitched - that's a shame.

Deadlier Beginnings - Amazon Link

Dusty the Demon Hunter seven short story set cannot be pitched - another shame.

Dusty the Demon Hunter - Dream Lover - Amazon Link

My 13 story Anthology cannot be pitched - yet another shame.

Penny Dreadfuls - Amazon Link

​From the start of my working life, I've never known what I wanted to do as a career (a little before, if I'm honest, 'Careers advice' at school started a couple of years before we left at 16).
 
That 'Careers advice' at school was worse than useless. We live in an area of high social deprivation (the town next to us was once #2 on the social deprivation chart and our area was #5 - not good!) the advice for me and my 'career' was:
 
Office girl, factory girl or shop girl. Then, the hopes and aspirations reached to - get married, have kids and settle for what you can get.
 
I don't like to 'settle' for anything. I dropped lucky in the fact that Trev and I were going steady by the time I did leave school and he has always been one to want that little bit more, a better life than we could have expected given the social economics surrounding us.
 
Yes, I eventually went onto factory work - I stayed at that job almost five years and then I set-up my own factory and started producing original merchandise for large PLCs.
 
When I took a part-time job as Door Security (Bouncer), I started watching people with greater interest. I had some good teachers back then and watching people saved your bacon if you knew what you were doing.

Cruel and Unusual - Amazon Link 

I had a lot of time to think - it's not all fighting and throwing people out, a lot of the time is spent waiting for something to happen. During that 'down-time', I thought and I watched people.
 
My mind went towards making scenarios for stories and one evening, a slow night at a newly-re-opened club, I watched the full moon rise over the miss-matched rooftops across the street and an image came to my mind.
 
Someone, coat flapping behind him, leaping from rooftop to rooftop in an agile steeple-chase. I could almost see him in my mind, framed by the perfect full moon.
 
"Can you imagine someone leaping across those rooftops?" I said to the receptionist, Lolly.
 
"Ooh yes," she said. "Vampire?"
 
But Vampire didn't ring quite true for me. I shook my head. "No, Werewolf."

Blood on the Moon - Amazon Link
 
That night, around 3am, right after work, I got home with no notion of trying to sleep. I couldn't possibly rest with all that going off in my head. I started writing.
 
Trev gave me a year off work to write my book. I stayed at the part-time job of Door Supervisor and did my NVQ (vocational training certificate) in venue security and I wrote my book.
 
I started sending the book to publishers - I followed the guidelines to the letter and sometimes I received a reply. One particular reply was so promising that I showed another of my writer friends and she told me how awesome the reply was. I followed the advice in the letter and sent it back. That agent had gone - split up, it was no longer there. **GUTTED!**
 
At 170,000 words, I was advised by a lot of people that it was too big - especially for a debut novel and the Editor in Chief at Gollancz seemed interested in my book. Gollancz published Terry Pratchett and also publish David Gemmell and naive me thought all my ships had come in at once.

Deadlier Than The Male paperback - Amazon Link
 
The advice to cut it in half was taken seriously by me and I set to work. After all, I had a contact and I had actually 'pitched' my novel to an Editor and she was interested! I found out later (only recently) that is a REALLY BIG DEAL!
 
I sent off the edited half of my book and I waited.
 
Unfortunately, the reply came back months later - 'Sorry, not for us.'
 
I went to another publisher and he promised me the moon on a stick! I signed a contract and heard nothing more from him, despite his 'contacts' with someone high up in Random House (Sister-in-law I think he said) and Gary Oldman (I did tell you I was naive and believed everything people told me). The contract came toward the end of the expiry date and I contacted him to find out if there had been any developments in getting me the moon - or even the stick. Damnit! He'd gone too! What is it with me and agents? Am I a Jonah for them?
 
Then, as a gift to show how much he supported me in my efforts to get published, Trev paid for a review. I do wish he'd told me he was planning to do that because it's a big no-no to purchase a review.
 
The review came back. I started reading it. The person had read my bio - at that time I was playing a lot of QII (Quake 2) and becoming quite good (one of the best girls in the UK at one time). It seems that the reviewer had taken the gaming part of my bio and assumed it was one of the role-playing games that were out at that time and assumed I'd written my book around that. The reviewer tore me apart in that review - hardly mentioning the book, story, plotlines, characters, character development at all.

Clipping from The Times newspaper
 
I didn't touch the book for more than a year because of that review. Trev was distraught. He thought he'd ruined it all for me.
 
Then came the idea to publish the book despite the industry's opinions. We set about researching self-publishing.
 
Matador came out on top as a self-publishing aid - Vanity Press is the term. I worked out that to get books down to a price that I could actually sell them at without making a loss, I would have to order 1000 paperbacks, with 100 hardbacks for good measure. That was going to cost between £6,000 and £8,000 - back when £8 grand was a lot of money!
 
That was without professional editing and formatting!
 
We couldn't afford it, but Trev said we'd do it anyway. The contract from Matador came back, we looked it over and decided to go ahead!
 
Then one of my friends, Nick, phoned me, he had a friend...
 
The friend came over with Nick and we chatted about publishing. Phil Gardiner is a published author. He's also a film maker and he is, to date, one of the most famous people I've met.
 
Phil said, "You can do all this on your own, you know. It won't cost £8 grand and you'll be published world-wide."
 
Following his advice, six weeks later, I had the first copy of my first novel firmly in my hands! Walking on air!
 
It turns out, I would have been way off the mark with 1000 paperbacks and 100 hardbacks because my Facebook presence took over and everyone wanted the hardbacks!

Original cover image
 
The advice from Phil Gardiner stood me in good stead and whilst I've not made much from publishing my books, I'm in profit.
 
I went on to do a few other projects with Phil, which is why I have an IMDB page too.
 
Back to Steemit then...
 
I've written a great deal on this platform. I've made a living from my writing because of it and I'm so very grateful for it. Having said that, my dream was always to publish with one of the Big Six - whether that will happen even now, or not, I don't know, but I really do have to give it another go.
 
You see, the feedback I receive from the people of Steemit is invaluable. It was the reason I stayed here when I was getting nothing in upvotes and it's still top of the list of things I look for when writing on my blog.
 
My plan is to re-release the books I have already 'out there', but I also want to give Trad Pub another try. I owe it to my characters.
 
So, if you're up for it, I'll be documenting my journey in the big wide world of seeking an Agent, writing queries, synopsis, and most of all, more novels.
 
Here we go then... into the wide, blue yonder!

Help! Seriously, I really could do with a favour - and theres something in it for you all.

I'm on a platform called steemit.com and I know some of you are also there too.

Here's what you can do for me:

1) If you are on steemit because of my recommendation, could you please write one post (about anything you like) but put it in the tag michellegent, and please mention that you're there because I recommended you.

2) If you are not on steemit, would you please, please, please join and make one post with the tag michellegent and please mention you're there because I asked you to join.

3) If you're on steemit but I didn't recommend you, but you're interested in my writing, would you please post under the tag michellegent saying you've read my work (or something, even if it's that you loathe me lol)

I want to show those on the platform that I do actually have outside-of-steemit influence.

To show you how very much this means to me, if you post to steemit with the tag michellegent, I will GIFT you one of my books on kindle - ANY of my titles. All you need to do is post on steemit and I'll send you the code to download from smashwords.www.steemit.com

​The morning arrived dull, grey and cold. Red didn’t notice because she was more in tune to her ancient intuitions at this moment. As an Ancient, she was in her role as Sentinel and had been for a few days. Luke was not overjoyed at the transformation that had occurred since her return from Elizabeth’s dungeon, especially as she had banished him – not just from her bed, but also from the house - and Steve had been begrudging in his offer of a bed at his house until after the trial and end-proceedings.
 
http://i.imgur.com/gb1IjNK.jpg
 
In this most austere proceeding, the assembled dignitaries were sat in silence at the head of the hall. The tribunal was the most exceptional in recent times. No Wolf younger than four hundred years sat on this conclave, waiting for the proceedings to begin. Twelve jurors had been chosen but that is where the similarity to a human court ended. These Wolves were not sitting to determine the accused guilty – because as it was the Sentinel that had accused them - they were guilty until they could prove themselves innocent – the Jurors were there, as tradition dictated, to witness that the procedure was held in the proper manner.
 
Above the awaiting assemblage, in galleries on three sides of the hall, other Wolves were gathered. The younger or less influential Wolves – those not invited to participate in this most historic event - spoke in muted tones, creating an indistinct murmur that hung almost tangible in the air. Most had to stand as seats had been removed in order that more Wolves could attend. Many of the discussions ran into one another, one Wolf overhearing his neighbours’ conversation and giving his input and then passing the information he had gleaned onto his group. Most were discussing the forthcoming trial, but what was also catching everyone’s attention – congregation and Jury alike - was the fact that the three sat at the Head of the hall were Victoria – the Lycaeon herself - and the two Wolves flanking her, both of whom had not been seen since the Middle Ages and had almost passed into legend.
 
Jakob – former ruler of his own pack in Bavaria before swearing allegiance to the Lycaeon sat at her right hand, as fierce a protectorate of the legacy he had once opposed as any.
 
http://i.imgur.com/tU5Ujgb.jpg?1
 
And Niall – the ancient Celt and staunch supporter of Victoria - as he was with Anton before her - sat at her left hand.
 
Questions were asked amongst the audience as to who these two Wolves could be. Not many knew either by sight, but some knew of them and these Wolves were not slow at passing on the information.
 
Victoria and her advocates were studying reams of documents, maps and scrolls. They had each received copies of all documentation on agreeing to stand as arbiter and had been studying them for weeks. Red – or Hazel as she had to be referred to in her official capacity - had made comprehensive reports on all the accusations she had made, citing not a few Wolves as willing witness and others not-so-willing – all were compelled to attend, even though their written statement was enough. They looked up as the Custodian’s Runner approached and awaited acknowledgement. Victoria nodded to him and he bowed in the proper manner, then he leaned forward to inform the trio: “The Custodian wishes to advise our Lycaeon and Elders that the Sentinel Exemplar is here and she is fully prepared.”
 
Victoria answered, “Very well, our thanks to the Custodian. Are the accused assembled?”
 
“Yes Lycaeon, they arrived a short time ago.”
 
Victoria nodded and the Runner left to return to the Custodian’s side. Victoria nodded to the Custodian.
 
It seemed uncanny how the incessant drone that had been present, all at once was silenced in favour of an apprehensive stillness.
 
From a door in the only wall that did not have a gallery above it, a lone figure stepped out onto the floor and the hush detonated into derisive jeers and heckling.
 
Hazel ignored the insults and contempt, even the ‘bitch’ comments. Today she would hold herself in consummate superiority. Today the Prophesy came to another fork and it was of ultimate significance that the correct path was taken, the proper ceremonies conducted and appropriate respect to traditions and elders afforded. She had no way of knowing if any of her actions or reactions to particular circumstances could influence the outcome – of either this trial or the prophecy – and so she had decided to take whichever path was directed by using her knowledge and power as Sentinel and take the consequences for good or bad.
 
Hazel approached the Lycaeon’s bench from the back; she skirted around, turned to face the table and halted a few feet from it to give a deep bow as mark of respect to Victoria, then turned to each of her colleagues and bowed to them, as she had to the Lycaeon. Victoria looked up, past Hazel at the howling mob and as one, they became silent once more. Then Hazel turned to the awaiting dozen jurors and faced them square on. The Custodian stood central between the Jury and the Lycaeon.
 
http://i.imgur.com/MOnci6N.jpg?1
 
“Sentinel, as representative of our ruling classes and emissary to our society we charge you to produce evidence and substantiation in order that our First Laws and bloodlines remain consistent, unimpaired and irrevocable. Can you?”
 
Hazel nodded once and said: “Yes.” Then she held out the bulging folder of documents, copies of which, Victoria, Jakob and Niall already had. With a slight bow, the Custodian’s Runner took the folder and placed it on the desk to the left of the Lycaeon where the Custodian would sit. Hazel took her place at a table to the right of the Lycaeon; the small table was bare except for a jug of water and a glass.
 
A gasp from the audience was heard and it seemed all but Hazel and the Lycaeon’s table contributed to the sound. The three Wolves that had entered via the same doorway as Hazel were recognised by all attending.
 
Phillipe took the front, as youngest Wolf, then Darius.
 
With a deliberate and obvious measure of putting a greater distance between himself and the previous two, Emilio the Elder strode onto the floor, wielding his stick more like a weapon than a walking aid. His presence was what had elicited the gasp of surprise.
 
The three were directed to sit opposite the Jury. Four chairs had been placed and Darius and Phillipe sat alongside each other. Emilio, again with due consideration, sat apart from them and Hazel got the feeling that he would have moved his chair further if he could. Emilio looked at Hazel with a neutral stare, neither venomous, nor affable. Phillipe did not look at the Jury, Hazel, or his Lycaeon. He did see who the two flanking her were and could not prevent the disbelief from showing on his face. Darius glared at every one in turn, leaving his most malevolent stare until last – for Hazel. She saw him from the corner of her eye, but pretended not to notice.
 
The Custodian stepped to the centre of the room, facing the collected Wolves. His voice rang out clearly. “This trial will begin immediately. It will not cease until verdicts have been given on all three Wolves. Once the trail is ended, any judgements will be decided forthwith according to the crime - and be it execution, ostracism or acquittal - that too will be expeditious.” Then he turned to the accused: “Phillipe Marchand, Darius Mauvoisin, Emilio Lovari the Elder: You are charged with Traitorous acts against Wolfkind. Poisoning. Murder. The manufacture of Throwbacks and most serious: Amassing an army in order to overthrow the Lycaeon and her Bloodline.”
 
The watching Wolves were abuzz with excitement at the announcement of the charges.
 
Hazel was watching the accused, she saw the look on Emilio’s face, it was a mask of absolute fury and he turned slowly to Darius and Phillipe. As the phrase goes: ‘If looks could kill’, there would have been no further need for the trial.