The story begins in 1450, when civil unrest sweeps England and the struggle for the crown is at its peak. Deep in a western forest, a baby is born. Powerful forces plot to kill both mother and child, but somehow the newborn girl survives. Her name is Anne. Fifteen years later, England has a charismatic young king, Edward IV, and the country has begun to wake from the nightmare of the War of the Roses. When Anne is brought to London to be a servant in the household of a wealthy merchant, her unusual beauty soon provokes jealousy, lust and intrigue. But Anne has one special quality that saves her: her knowledge of herbs and healing. News of her remarkable gift spreads and she is brought to save the life of Edward's ailing queen. And so Anne comes to live in the royal palace, and it is here she finds her destiny: to be loved by the king himself.
I'm passionate about history, particularly European history between, say, the end-ish of the first millennium up until the 1480's. I get bored with the advent of the Tudors (they invented the public service. Can't bring myself to love them for that!)
Landscape moves me - particularly unpeopled landscapes - but I also adore architecture though I tend to lose interest around the Baroque and come back in again, briefly, for Georgian Architecture, then again for the Arts and Crafts movement and the 1920's.
My idea of heaven is to drive around countryside that's unfamiliar to me in Spring or Autumn, through fields and little towns with no particular agenda in mind.
Interestingly the only time my husband, Andrew, and I fight is when one of us is trying to navigate the other in unfamiliar territory - but provided we can stop somewhere beautiful that night, eat something delicious and drink good wine, alls right with the world by morning.
Andrew likes to take pictures, I don't especially. When I'm thinking of a story, its often enough for me to stand and look at something. I try to fix what it feels like to my senses, what it smelt like, for instance; was there sun, was it raining, was it cold? And, that's often enough for the process to begin: the story process.
And whilst story and factual research is a delicious process for me, I'm convinced that human beings are much the same under the skin and always have been - though language, culture, circumstances and environment will always be different.
Family is very important to me. Both my nearest kin and then, also, the extended runners of the family vine that stretch back and forward through time.
Family has taught me that love is possible though it ain't always easy. I see myself as a buoyant pessimist: that helps. The pessimist in me always has a plan B, C and D (I hope!) if things go wrong - television production teaches you that as a failsafe; but the optimist bit makes me hopeful about the future. I've been a lucky woman and I'm deeply grateful for that.
If I have a credo it's one word. Persist. Rudyard Kipling's poem "IF" sums that up for me - each phrase hits like a hammer of truth. And, on the wall of my writing room is another piece of writing that never fails to move me, particularly when I'm feeling defeated or cast down. "Today I put on the sinews of the sky, Flames of the sun, Moon's glitter, fire's astonishment..." and so it goes on. To me, it's all about the acquisition of strength when you need it most.
Warm best wishes,
Posie
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