Judith Arnopp
October and November have been mad bad months for me so far. At the end of October we were devastated by the news that our house buyers were pulling out and all our plans thrown into chaos. The news came on the morning of my other half's 60th birthday and it wasn't easy to shake off our disappointment and enjoy the day but, thanks to our lovely bunch of kids, all of whom joined us for the celebrations, we managed.
October and November have been mad bad months for me so far. At the end of October we were devastated by the news that our house buyers were pulling out and all our plans thrown into chaos. The news came on the morning of my other half's 60th birthday and it wasn't easy to shake off our disappointment and enjoy the day but, thanks to our lovely bunch of kids, all of whom joined us for the celebrations, we managed.
As is often the case, hot on the heels of the bad news came better tidings, this time in the shape of my latest novel, The Kiss of the Concubine (available now on a kindle near you). I am not very good at marketing but I organised a few blogs and interviews to alert the reading public that the book was released, then I sat back and waited to see if anyone would notice.
To my surprise it is flying off the shelves - well, it would be if e-books were kept on shelves. I have now ok'd the paperback version and that will also be available via Amazon, myself, or direct from the publisher very soon. but it isn't just the new book that is selling, my back catalogue is moving too and some wonderful reviews are coming in.
So, this blog is really to acknowledge and thank all you wonderful people who enable me to carry on writing books. I want to thank the bloggers who hosted me, the reviewers who spread the word and most of all the people who buy my novels. Without you I would have been forced to give up long ago. I cannot describe the thrill I experience each time one of you emails or flags on Facebook how much you enjoyed a particular book/character/scene/blog. I don't crave fame or riches. It is your enjoyment makes it all worth while. So, thank you. I love you all :)
In case you've not noticed. The Kiss of the Concubine is the story of Anne Boleyn, from her own perspective tracing her love affair with Henry VIII and charting her downfall. It is a frank and often painful account of a doomed romance.
Here are some examples of what the reader reviews have said so far. "Well formed characters, great Tudor atmosphere. One of those reads
where you feel a bit bereft when you get to the end - my measure for
five stars"
" Highly recommended to any lovers of historical fiction. Worth buying."
" The reader is
swept along with Anne, and the book is impossible to put down. Warmly
recommended to those wanting to know more, but also to those who just
love a good read"
"Judith Arnopp has found such a unique and fresh approach to this most
famous of love/hate relationships that readers will be drawn into her
atmospheric prose. She is so skilled at conjuring the sights and sounds
of her chosen setting that you can almost hear the courtly music, smell
the pomanders, and taste the suckling pig."
You can watch a trailer here.
Below is the introduction.
The Kiss
of
The Concubine
28th January 1547 – Whitehall Palace
It is almost
midnight and January has Whitehall Palace clenched in its wintery fist. The
gardens are rimed with frost, the casements glazed with ice. Like a shadow, I
wait alone by the window in the silver-blue moonlight, my eye fixed on the bed.
The room is
crowded, yet nobody speaks.
I tread softly
among them. The flickering torchlight illuminates a sheen of anticipation on
their faces, the rank odour of their uncertainty rising in a suffocating fug.
Few can remember the time that went before, and both friend and foe balance
upon the cusp of change, and tremble at the terror of the unknown.
I move through
the heavily perfumed air, brush aside jewelled velvet sleeves. At the
high-canopied bed I sink to my knees and observe his face for a long moment. He
is changed. This is not the man I used to know.
They have
propped him on pillows, the vast belly mountainous beneath the counterpane, and
the yellow skin of mortality’s mask is drawn tightly across his cheeks. There
is not much time and before death can wipe his memory clean, I speak suddenly
into his ear, a whisper meant only for him. “Henry!”
The king’s eyes
fly open and his eyeballs swivel from side to side, his disintegrating ego
peering as if through the slits in a mummer’s mask.
He knows me,
and understands why I have come.
He whimpers
like a frightened child and Anthony Denny steps forward and leans over the bed.
“Your Majesty, Archbishop Cranmer has been summoned; he cannot be long now.”
Henry’s fat
fingers tremble as he grips the coverlet, his pale lips coated with thick
spittle as he tries to speak. I move closer, my face almost touching his, and
the last rancid dregs of his breath engulf me. “They think you fear death,
Henry. But you fear me more, don’t you, my Lord?”
“Anne?”
The sound is
unintelligible, both a denial and a greeting, but it tells me what I need to
know. He recognises and fears my presence. Those assembled begin to mutter that
the king is raving, talking with shadows.
I sink into the
mattress beside him and curl my body around his bulk. “How many times did we
share this bed, Henry?” His breathing is laboured now and sweat drips from his
brow, the stench of his fear exceeded only by that of his festering thigh. I
tighten my grip upon him. “Did you ever love me, Henry? Oh, I know that you
lusted but that isn’t the same. Do you remember how you burned for me, right to
the end?”
I reach out to
run my fingertip along his cheek and he leaps in fright, like a great fish
floundering on a line, caught in a net of his own devising. One brave attendant
steps forward to mop the king’s brow as I continue to tease.
“Poor Henry.
Are you afraid even now of your own sins? To win me you broke from Rome,
although in your heart you never wanted to. Even the destruction of a thousand
years of worship was a small price to pay to have me in your bed, wasn’t it?”
Henry sucks in
air and forgets to breathe again. A physician hurries forward, pushes the
attendant aside and with great daring, lifts the king’s right eyelid. Henry
jerks his head away and the doctor snatches back his hand as if it has been
scalded.
Even now they
are fearful of him. Although the king can no longer so much as raise his head
from his pillow, they still cower. How long will it take for them to forget
their fear?
Mumbling
apologies, the physician bows and backs away to take his place with the others.
As they watch and wait a little longer, the sound of mumbled prayer increases.
“Not long now, Henry,” I whisper like a lover. “It is almost over.”
A door opens.
Cold air rushes into the stifling chamber and Archbishop Cranmer enters,
stamping his feet to dislodge the snow from his boots. He hands his outer
clothes to a servant before pushing through the crowd to approach the bed, his
Bible tucked beneath his arm.
I playfully
poke the end of Henry’s nose. “Time to confess your sins, my husband.” Cranmer
takes the king’s hand, his long slim fingers contrasting with the short swollen
digits of his monarch. As he begins to mutter the last rites, I put my mouth
close to Henry’s ear to taunt him. “Tell
the truth, Hal. Own up to all the lies you told; how you murdered and how you
cheated. Go on ….”
But King Henry
has lost the power of speech, and cannot make a full confession. Gasping for
one more breath he clings tightly to Cranmer’s hand, and I know there is not
long to wait before he is mine again. A single tear trickles from the corner of
his eye to be lost upon his pillow.
“It’s time,
Henry,” I whisper. “And I am here, waiting. For a few short years I showed you
Paradise and now, perhaps, I can do so again. Unless, of course, I choose to
show you Hell.”
***
If you would like to read more The Kiss of the Concubine is available in kindle format on Amazon UK and Amazon US and other Amazon outlets. The paperback will be available shortly.
You deserve all those lovely reviews, Judith! And I'm sure something even better will come up on the house front. Fingers crossed!
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Judith - I am intrigued! I love this opening with Anne waiting maliciously for Henry to die so she can make his death Paradise or Hell. Now I have to know!
ReplyDeleteIt wouldn't be the book it is without your clever editing Cas. And Darlene, if you read it I hope you have some tissues handy :)
ReplyDeleteGod bbless
ReplyDeleteVery nice blog yyou have here
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