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  • Writer's pictureAmelia

This Is Not A Drill

It seems as though I’ve been talking about The Wolf-Finder General for years.

This is probably because I have.

When I started writing it, in the buzz of having just published The Vicar Man, I thought that it would be perhaps a year before my next book was ready for publication.

Either I’d completely blanked out the preceding couple of years, or I was giving COVID and lockdown far too much credit for slowing the whole thing down*.

It turns out the plague wasn’t solely to blame.

I am, in fact, perfectly capable of getting in my own way, even without a murderous lurgy and a crowded house to do it for me.

But, at last, the book is ready to go.

In one week I shall cast The Wolf-Finder General out into the wilds and the world, and get on with the next wretched thing on my list instead**.

In the meantime, if one week is still a little long to wait, then, from this Thursday***** until The Wolf-Finder General goes on sale, you can get the e-book of The Vicar Man for just ninety nine pence.

If you haven’t read it yet, and you’d like to get to know Dora a little better, and perhaps find out how she got herself into this fix in the first place, now’s your chance.

My Winter Holiday stories are still up in the usual place too, if you don’t mind reading them at very-nearly Midsummer.

If you’d rather not read a whole book before you read the book — and I just wrote a blog about the fact that you don’t have to read everything in order — then I hope you’ll enjoy the surprise.

The Wolf-Finder General is out on the Fourth of June, and available for pre-order now.

A picture of a drill. Specifically a Hammer drill, because I have a theme going here. The drill itself is in shades of dark and light grey, with the grip and a couple of buttons highlighted in what The Devil Wears Prada informs me is cerulean blue (I was very disappointed in that film - no actual devils) It is in a case of the same dark grey as its body, making it more than usually awkward to make out. The box is on a scattered pile of pink and green foam tiles, in my shed. The shed is unusually full of cobwebs, but they don't show up in the picture.
Ceci n'est pas une perceuse

*I know a lot of people wrote their “lockdown novel”.

In my case work on the novel I had been writing — in bursts of activity, in coffee shops, while my kids were at their dance classes — slowed to a crawl.

**This is a filthy lie.I am already working on the next wretched thing.

And a wretched side-thing***, and a  wretched short thing, and another, totally unrelated wretched thing that probably won’t be ready in time for October which is when I said it would be done.

And a couple of other things too.

***What Cecil Did On His Holiday.

Coming eventually to a bookseller near**** you.

****In the Virtual Age everything is nearby.

Is it still the Virtual Age?

Honestly it’s been the Space Age, and the Electronic Age, and the Communications Age, and the Virtual Age, and I’ve probably missed a few Ages; and at some point I think we’re just going to have to stop and really seriously consider doing what everyone else did; which is to wait till we’ve all been decently dead for a couple of millennia before we let anyone put any sort of label on the era at all.


I missed the Silicon Age.

*****Why Thursday?

I have no idea.

Because Amazon is being strange, is why.

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