The Devil and the Dark Water полностью

An Indiaman would have had dozens of officers, all vital to the running of the ship. I had three, because I didn’t want to bog the story down with that many characters, or subplots. The history that snuck into my book often happened differently, much later, or not at all. The technology is far more advanced than it should be, as are some of the attitudes – and the speech. Definitely the speech. This is all intentional. I did my research, then I threw away the bits that hindered my story. See what I mean? This is historical fiction where the history is the fiction. Hopefully, you don’t mind that. But I know lots of people will, because lots of people want chocolate, not coffee. They want the details I tossed overboard.

This is quite a long winded way of saying please don’t send me critical letters about proper rigging techniques on galleons, or women’s fashion in the 1600s. Unless they’re super interesting facts you’d like to share.

I love a good fact.

Right, I’ve kept you long enough. I truly hope you enjoyed Devil, as I’ve enjoyed our chat. Have a lovely evening. Let’s talk again in two years when my next book’s out. It’s going to be really fun, I promise.

Bye,

Stu

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Buckle in kids, I’m going full Gwyneth. On Seven Deaths, I thanked half the people I should have. This time I’m thanking absolutely everybody. Writing Devil was hard work, as was having a new-born baby while I was doing it. I moaned a fair bit about both. Sorry everybody. I’m happier now. Come find me, I owe you a pint.

Poor Resa. Aside from all the listening and tea, my wife took care of Ada all alone on many more weekends than was fair. She was also the one who pointed out that my original ending was rubbish. If you have a partner like Resa, 90% of your life is perfect. Thanks, hottie. (Using this nickname in public will definitely get me killed.)

Let’s talk a little bit about my editors, Alison Hennessey, Shana Drehs, and Grace Menary-Winefield. Devil had to be dug out, word by word. It kicked, and spat, and bit. They had to read so much dross and were nothing but kind and positive. Devil wouldn’t exist without them.

My agent Harry Illingworth is … tall, so there’s that. In all seriousness, he’s my mate who knows a lot about publishing. This is marvellously helpful. He’s also brilliant at not crying when I tell him I’m going to miss ANOTHER deadline, and he has to break the news to Alison. These skills can’t be taught.

Big Phil’s abandoned us, so she’s dead to me. I was going to say how brilliant her campaign for Seven Deaths was, and how ace the campaign for Devil was shaping up to be. I was going to say she’s a pal, but she selfishly got pregnant and went on maternity leave, so I’m not going to say any of those things. They’re all equally true of Amy, so I’ll say them to Amy alone. Amy, you’re a miracle worker. Thank you. And Phil, of course. I can’t really be mean, because you’ve got a newborn. That’s punishment enough.

Glen brings me brownies whenever I sign books. For that and letting me talk his ear off as we crisscross London bookstores, I thank you. David Mann designs wonderful covers. The two for Seven Deaths were his. The Devil cover was his. I love them all. Ta, mate. Emily Faccini drew the map you’ve been ogling. She’s supremely talented. She did the Seven Deaths one, as well, which is why that’s also wonderful.

Caitlin, Valerie, and Genevieve have managed to shove my books in front of so many faces I’m surprised people aren’t tripping over them when they leave the house. Thanks guys. And let’s not forget Sara Helen, making the production process look effortless, even in the midst of a pandemic. Nice work. Ta!

And, finally, mum, dad, and spud. How do you thank the earth you stand on and the ozone layer for protecting you from incineration? I’ve been trying to be an author for a long time. They never stopped believing I would be. That still matters.

Queue the music. Queue the tears. I’m out of here.

Case #1: The Body Under the Black Snow

I’m often asked how I met Samuel Pipps, and what my first impressions were. As with most questions, it’s easier to ask than to answer.

It was 1629, and I had recently returned from war, after spending two years advancing and retreating under an increasingly tatty flag of independence. We had been trying to liberate the besieged town of Breda from the Spanish, but, for all our effort and death, nothing had been achieved. As summer rolled into winter, the war was packed up neat and put away. Nobles don’t like fighting in the cold and they had retreated to their castles to hunt and eat and dance until they could resume their slaughter in the sunshine.