The wheatear comes here at this time of year. It’s a small bird with a white rump, which is where its name comes from. The original English name was White Arse, but the Victorians thought that was a bit rude. Here is the story of how a White Arse pie saved lives. Continue reading “The White Arse”
Sitting in the lantern room of the lighthouse at Belle Tout is like being in a space capsule, suspended in the cosmos. The full velvet blackness of the night wraps itself around the room and there are stars at every turn. Continue reading “The Stars”
There is a soft pink light on the hills, as the sun goes behind the clouds half an hour early. From up here in the lantern room of Belle Tout lighthouse you can watch the walkers without being seen. The moon is rising, huge on the hill. Continue reading “The Sunset”
Sarah stands on the brink, arms open wide as if to let the wind carry her away. She’s come to the high cliffs to be alone, to face the truth about her life, to work out what to do. Her lover is searching, desperate to find her before it is too late. But Sarah doesn’t want to be found. Not yet. Not by him.
And someone else is also seeking answers up here where the seabirds soar – a man known only as the Keeper, living in an old lighthouse right on the cusp of a four-hundred-foot drop. He is all too aware that sometimes love takes you to the edge . . .
This is the blurb for my debut novel The Light Keeper, due to be published in August 2019 by Marylebone House. Sign up now for exclusive preview chapters and the chance to win a night at the Belle Tout lighthouse.