Author: Miriam Drori

Author, editor, attempter of this thing called life. Social anxiety warrior. Re-Connections, a collection of short stories, published with Ocelot Press, 15/10/2025.

SIM Talk 1: Jess B. Moore

Welcome to the first ever SIM Talk with Miriam. And I couldn’t have found a better one to start off the series. Thank you so much, Jess B. Moore, for your frank and brave personal account, one that probably resonates with many people. And for your brilliant novel, The Guilt of a Sparrow, of which more below.

Social Anxiety

Jess B. Moore As a child, no one ever said the words social anxiety to me. People called me shy, quiet, mature beyond my years. I knew I spent more time inside my own head than other people, but it didn’t occur me it might be something more. I preferred to be alone, or with one close friend, never a crowd.

Adulthood means I know and understand my social anxiety. I grapple with it daily and try not to let it take over. With my children watching, I’m hyper-aware of the behavior I demonstrate. I have two sons, one who has shown social anxiety since babyhood, and the other an absolute extrovert.

Every phone call triggers a response in me to turn away and not answer. A knock at my front door leads to my hiding in silence, in hopes who ever is there will go away. When I sat in my car, unable to exit, in the parking lot of an oil change place, I knew I needed help.

Here’s what happened: I pulled in, eyed the three buildings, myriad of cars and people, the small lot, and had no idea how to proceed. Where did I enter? Should I park first? Or did I pull my car into the bay first? I pulled into one of the few parking spaces, sat gripping my steering wheel, and couldn’t face it. In the end, I pulled away without getting my oil changed.

My diagnoses of depression came at seventeen. I didn’t ask my doctor about anxiety – in general as well as social – until my mid thirties.

I can remember my mother retelling how she told a doctor once she had both depression and anxiety, and her doctor saying you couldn’t have both. At least we’ve come away from that illogical belief, and I am able to better manage both my depression and my anxiety.

In my first book, The Guilt of a Sparrow, the main character Magnolia Porter suffers from social anxiety. This is evident from page one, when she’s walking through a busy town park to attend an event, hoping to make it to her spot on the sidelines without notice. When she’s approached and needs to make idle conversation, her heart is pounding, hands shaking, mind reeling. She goes blank and wants to escape. This part of Maggie is me – it was easy to pull upon my own experience to write her social anxiety.

I recently shared a photo on my Instagram of a mug reading “Awkward is my specialty.” I posted it as a joke, because I’ve always known I’m awkward. But when it comes down to it, feeling awkward isn’t always funny. Sometimes it’s the reason I don’t go to meet new people or join in on activities. I shy away.

What I always considered low self-esteem, is actually my social anxiety. I’m talking about an intense fear of being judged, avoiding being the center of attention, and worrying about humiliation. My worst nightmare is being the center of attention. Even answering a casual question in front of small group.

I started teaching yoga and found I could go up in front of a group and lead the class without falling apart. It was different – knowing what to do and say, rather than coming up with my own words or sharing something personal. Writing has been a good outlet for me as well. I can tell my stories, all while hiding behind the ink and text, finding a safe way to express myself.

Thank you, Miriam, for having me share my story of social anxiety. I hope others can relate and feel better knowing they aren’t alone.

Thank you, Jess. I’m sure others will relate, and helping others to realise they aren’t alone is a big part of my passion to raise awareness of social anxiety. I was shocked by what that doctor told your mother – that you can’t have both depression and anxiety. Yes, we’ve come on since then. But a lot more needs to be done.

You can find Jess on Instagram, Facebook and her beautiful Website.

Jess’s booklinks are The Guilt of a Sparrow and Fierce Grace. There’s another book on the way.

And, Jess has a brand new book subscription box.

***

Remember, you can take part in this series, if you want to write or talk about one or more of the three topics. Do get in touch after reading this post.

Next week, I’ll welcome Val Penny back to the blog. I wonder what she’s decided to talk about.

Tags anxiety, awkward, depression, Fierce Grace, Jess B. Moore, low self-esteem, mature, quiet, shy, The Guilt of a Sparrow, writing, yoga

Uncategorized

Who is a Jew?

I happened to read this in a recent article in the Jewish Chronicle:

In recent years, as antisemitism has become ever more of a news item… lazy journalists reach for some easy stereotypes of black- hatted and bearded Jews in Stamford Hill to illustrate any news piece about the Jewish community.

This notion might have grown, but it’s not new. It must be over twenty years since my son got separated from his father in a funfair in England. He found himself searching a CCTV screen along with a man who said, “Oh, you come from Israel. So we’re searching for a man with a black hat and a beard.”

Another time, I was sitting in a little tourist train in Bournemouth when I saw two women watching a family whose dress made them stand out. You know, hat, beard, black suit, dress covering knees and elbows, little boys with dreadlocks and tassles. One woman turned to the other and said, “They’re Jews,” and I wanted to say, “We’re not all like that.”

It’s been an awfully long time since I visited Beit Hatfutsot – The Museum of the Jewish People in Tel-Aviv. The part I remember most about it is the never-ending pictures of Jews flashing past on a screen. And they’re all so different.

That’s all I wanted to say in this post. Jews come in all shapes, sizes, colours and dress.

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I looked up “Jews” in some free image sites, looking for a picture for this post. Guess what I found and why there’s no picture attached to this post.

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We’re remembering one Jew and Israeli who sadly passed away two days ago: the brilliant author, Amos Oz. While not everyone agreed with his views, we all acknowledge and appreciate his love for this country.

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Tags Amos Oz, Beit Hatfutsot, Bournemouth, Jewish Chronicle, Jews, Tel-Aviv

Blogging Books Holidays Rhymes SIM Talks with Miriam

Two Months – Where did they Go?

Post author By Miriam Drori
Post date Dec 27, 2018
2 Comments on Two Months – Where did they Go?

The last post on this blog was two months ago. Time for a catchup.

November was NaNoWriMo, that month of the year when an ever growing number of people around the world try to write a novel in a month. Those who despise it haven’t got it, I think. The result is only a first draft. It’s not for anyone else to read and definitely not for publication. I didn’t manage to “win” this year, but I had a great time creating thirty-something thousand words that will form a basis for a new novel… when I can find time to work on it.

Then we went away, to Vietnam and Cambodia, two countries I never expected to visit, given what I heard about them all through my childhood and beyond. The trip was wonderful.

What’s happening now? Well, I’ve been featured on a few blogs:

Many thanks to Social Anx, Jess B. Moore, Val Penny and Lizzie Chantree for those.

I’m editing another novel. (Someone else’s novel.)

I’m still working on a novel of mine that I thought I’d finished.

And I’m making plans for 2019. One of those is for a new feature on this blog, called SIM Talks. Watch this space for more about that.

I hope you’re all enjoying life as much as I am and wish you all the best for

2019

Remember my New Year rhyme? Here it is again:

Three Years a Year

I pity the people with only one year,
Who end it all merry, never shedding a tear.
They have to say so many things in one go,
To one year goodbye, to another hello.

They try to reflect on the year that has passed,
While also looking forward to the one that is fast
Approaching… nearly… almost… it’s here!
Resolutions transferred from yesteryear.

In Israel, you see, we celebrate three
And each, in its character, is solitary.
Different, special and unique,
They make us happy, thankful and… meek?

Rosh Hashana is one of those.
With all its rules, it keeps us on our toes,
Requesting forgiveness for our sins.
That’s “our” for humanity; not just kins.

Then we join with the world and celebrate, too,
Although some disagree and think it’s taboo.
Sylvester, it’s called, I used to know why.
It matters not when I’m feeling high.

What, you may ask, is number three?
It’s the one that marks the year of the tree.
Goes under the name of Tu B’Shvat.
We plant more trees, sing songs. That’s that?

Well no, we give presents of nuts and fruit,
And we eat same with much relish to boot.
So whatever New Year is appropriate for you,
I hope it is happy and fulfilling, too!

Tags Cambodia, catchup, Jess B. Moore, Lizzie Chantree, nanowrimo, New Year, November, Social Anx, Val Penny, Vietnam

Books Letters from Elsewhere

Letters from Elsewhere: Pierre

Post author By Miriam Drori
Post date Oct 26, 2018
3 Comments on Letters from Elsewhere: Pierre

My little French visitor has written a letter. That surprised me until I discovered it’s an assignment from his teacher. He and his classmates were asked to write a letter of introduction, telling a little about themselves and then something of what each of them wants for the future.

Chère Madame Noyer,

My name is Pierre Mancelle and I am eight years old. I live with my parents in the village of Messandrierre. My maman is a music teacher but not in a school. She has students who come to the house and sometimes she goes to their houses. Sometimes she teaches in school when another teacher is sick. My papa sings at the opera house in Marseille, so he is often away. But I have my own phone now so that I can talk to him when he’s not in rehearsal or on stage. We have an apartment in Marseille that is near the opera house and also close to the old port. Papa lives there when he’s singing but comes home when he’s not. He also goes to Lyon and Paris to sing too. He’s not famous or anything like that. He’s a tenor and he sings as part of the company, but he does understudy sometimes.

I like music, but not opera, it’s too complicated. I like playing my recorder. I also like riding my bike around the village and going on patrol with Gendarme Jacques Forêt, except he’s not a gendarme in the village any more. He works in Mende now. So I have to do my detective work with Gendarme Clergue instead. He’s OK… but it’s not the same.

Just like at home. It’s not the same. The family is changing. It’s always been only me and maman and papa, but soon I won’t be on my own any more. I’m not sure how I feel about that. Maman says, that as the eldest, I will have to take on new responsibilities. Papa says that I will still be ‘the man of the house’ when he isn’t there. And grandpapa says that I will always be just as precious to maman and papa as I always have been. But I’m not so sure…

I know I want to be a detective like Jacques. Maman says I have to call him Monsieur Jacques. But he lets me call him Jacques when its just us two and when he was a gendarme he let me call him Gendarme Jacques when we were working on cases together. But now he’s working in Mende I only see him at weekends when he brings Madame Elizabeth to the village. I wish I could see him more often because he would know what to do. He knows what to do about everything. He would know what to do about one of the boys who are always hanging around outside school. A boy I don’t like….

Ah, I was wondering when he’d get to the point, if ever. If you want to know more, you can find out in Montbel by talented Crooked Cat author, Angela Wren… that is, you will be able to when it’s released on 13th November.

About Montbel

A clear-cut case?

A re-examination of a closed police case brings investigator, Jacques Forêt, up against an old adversary. After the murder of a key witness, Jacques finds himself, and his team, being pursued.

When a vital piece of evidence throws a completely different light on Jacques’ case, his adversary becomes more aggressive, and Investigating Magistrate Pelletier threatens to sequester all of Jacques’ papers and shut down the investigation.

Can Jacques find all the answers before Pelletier steps in?

Montbel is the third Jacques Forêt mystery and can be found on Amazon.

Angela can be found on Amazon US, Amazon UK, her website, her blog, Facebook, Goodreads and Contact an Author.

***

This might be the end of Letters from Elsewhere. I feel it’s time for something new. But not just now. I’m too busy working on my own future at the moment. So, don’t worry if you don’t hear from me for a while, but don’t be surprised if you do. And I’ll still be around on Twitter and Facebook and Instagram.

Miriam Drori, reading from her non-fiction book: Social Anxiety Revealed

Tags Angela Wren, Crooked Cat Books, Jacques Forêt, Montbel, murder mystery

Holidays

Où est ma valise?

“Only one thing marred the trip,” I wrote in my last post. But even that had good consequences, as well as bad.

On the way to Carcassonne, I’d expected not to catch the direct train from Marseille. This would have meant waiting for hours and then changing trains twice on the way. In the event, my plane landed half and hour early and I caught the direct train easily. Plain sailing.

Not so on the return journey. My train was delayed by a full hour. And my suitcase was stolen, probably at the station after Carcassonne. It felt like déjà vu. Exactly twenty years earlier my rucksack was stolen on a train from the airport into Paris. This created no end of complications, involving replacing passports and credit cards.

There was nothing important or valuable in the suitcase. But still.

“You should tell the guard,” said a girl who spoke good English. I found the guard, who also spoke good English but was very unhelpful, unless you count telling me I should have been watching the case all the time.

At Marseille’s Saint-Charles Station, I searched for the police station and found it.

That wasn’t much help. I asked at the information place what I should do. The guy there wasn’t at all helpful. But at my Japanese hotel, I was given a map and walking directions to the nearest police station, which I found easily.

Two things interested me during the two hours I spent there. I wish I could have taken photos, but I decided that wouldn’t be a good move!

As I stood waiting in a queue, a man arrived all cut up and dripping blood. The police officers talked to him from behind the protected counter, and he answered. The people sitting on benches in a corner moved up to let him sit, which he did. A woman who talked to him and seemed to be trying to help got snapped at, but he did thank – profusely – a couple who came into the station with him, for their help.

After a short while, two police officers arrived to administer first aid before taking him away. When I was told to sit and wait, I noticed blood on the bench where he’d been sitting and kept away from it.

Just before that, while I stood at the counter waiting for them to deal with me, I saw two officers – one female and one male – kissing. It occurred to me that this was a strange place to carry on a romance. As I sat in the waiting area, it became obvious that this was a procedure that took place every time an officer entered or left the area behind the counter – men with men, men with women and presumably women with women if there’d been more than one woman. Yes, it was only the kiss-on-each-cheek type, but to one who doesn’t live in France, it seems strange in that setting.

At eleven o’clock, when they finally finished with me, I asked, “Is it safe to walk back to the hotel at this time?” showing an officer the hotel on my map. He pointed to the way I should walk, telling me not to walk round the other way because it’s not safe. That didn’t make me feel wonderful, but I got back in one piece.

The other good outcome was that I didn’t have to deal with a suitcase on the way home. This was particularly useful at Ben Gurion Airport, which was very crowded because of a holiday. I was pleased to be able to get out in record time.

And I got new clothes.

Tags Carcassonne, guard, Marseille, police, suitcase, train

Holidays

Providence in Provence

It’s been a while since I’ve written about me on this blog, so here goes…

My most recent news is about the few days I spent in France, due to the providence of my publisher, Crooked Cat Books. The “gathering” of authors was both fruitful and fun, and the location of Carcassonne was perfect.

You can see how much I enjoyed it!

Then, on the way back, I spent a day in Marseille, which also has plenty to see.

And I loved the Japanese hotel I stayed in.

Only one thing marred the trip, but I’ll leave that for another post.

It was great to return home. (Sorry about the misted window.)

Oh yes! A month ago, I was thrilled to be able to share five special photos on Sharon Booth’s lovely blog. Do have a look if you haven’t yet. A picture, as they say, is worth a thousand words.

Tags Carcassonne, Crooked Cat Books, Five photos, France, Japanese art, Marseille, plane, Sharon Booth

Books Letters from Elsewhere

Letters from Elsewhere: Annette Waters

Post author By Miriam Drori
Post date Sep 21, 2018
1 Comment on Letters from Elsewhere: Annette Waters

I’m delighted to host my old friend, Annette Waters, today. Yeah, I reckon I know Annette pretty damn well. So much so that even her language has rubbed off on me! You see, Annette comes from a novel I took great pleasure in editing: Redneck’s Revenge by Joan Livingston. And the launch date is just around the corner.

In Redneck’s Revenge, Annette Waters hires Isabel Long for Isabel’s second case. Annette doesn’t believe her father died in a fire after he was passed-out drunk. She believes he was murdered. In this letter, Annette, who Isabel and her mother nicknamed the Tough Cookie, expresses her appreciation:

Dear Isabel,

I wanted to say thanks for taking my case. My cousin, Marsha, told me all about how you figured out what happened to that woman who went missing so many years ago. My Pop hasn’t been dead that long so I hope it will be easier.

I’m going to be honest with you. I don’t like newcomers very much. Sometimes I actually hate them. A lot of them move into our little towns and treat us natives like we’re stupid rednecks. Yeah, I am a redneck and proud of it, but you didn’t make me feel stupid. You weren’t shocked I’m a mechanic and I run the junkyard my father owned.

You didn’t mind I’m going to pay you with free service to your cars.

And you believed what I told you about my Pop.

I know what kind of man my father was. If he didn’t like you, he was a real SOB. That was actually a lot of people.

But if Pop did like you, he’d take the shirt off his back for you. He’d sure like you and your mother.

By the way, your mother cracks me up. I can’t believe she’s 92.

Yeah, yeah, I heard Pop cheated at cards. I say don’t play if you can’t afford to lose. Stop being a crybaby. Wah, wah, wah.

Yeah Pop drank like a fish. And the hard stuff, too. But burn up in a fire? He’d never get that drunk.

Shit. Nobody deserves to die like Pop did. I just hope he didn’t suffer much. It makes me cry when I think about it because I loved him so much. He taught me everything I know about fixing vehicles.

I gave you a list of who I think might have done it. Please find the bastard who killed him.

Yours truly,

Annette

About Redneck’s Revenge

ISABEL LONG’S SECOND CRIME MYSTERY

Her next case. She’s in it for good.

Isabel Long is in a funk months after solving her first case. Her relationship with the Rooster Bar’s owner is over, but no surprise there since his sister turned out to be the killer. Then cops say she must work for a licensed P.I. before working solo.

Encouraged by her Watson — her 92-year-old mother — Isabel snaps out of it by hooking up with a P.I. and finding a new case.

The official ruling is Chet Waters, an ornery so-and-so, was passed out when his house caught fire. His daughter, who inherited the junkyard, believes he was murdered. Topping the list of suspects are dangerous drug-dealing brothers, a rival junkyard owner, and an ex-husband.

Could the man’s death simply be a case of redneck’s revenge? Isabel is about to find out.

Click here for Redneck’s Revenge and here for the first in the series: Chasing the Case.

About Joan Livingston

Joan Livingston is the author of novels for adult and young readers. Redneck’s Revenge, published by Crooked Cat Books, is the second in the mystery series featuring Isabel Long, a longtime journalist who becomes an amateur P.I. The first is Chasing the Case.

An award-winning journalist, she started as a reporter covering the hilltowns of Western Massachusetts. She was an editor, columnist, and most recently the managing editor of The Taos News, which won numerous state and national awards during her tenure.

After eleven years in Northern New Mexico, she returned to rural Western Massachusetts, which is the setting of much of her adult fiction, including the Isabel Long series.

Joan Livingston is on her website, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and Goodreads.

Redneck’s Revenge is released in just five days and Joan invites everyone to her celebratory online launch party, where there will be contests, discussions and more. Prizes include having your name as a character in Book Four plus signed copies of Chasing the Case. Just click on the link, choose ‘Going’ and Facebook will remind you when it’s happening.

Tags Chasing the Case, Crime Fiction, Crooked Cat Books, Joan Livingston, online launch party, prizes, Redneck's Revenge, Tough Cookie

Books Letters from Elsewhere

Letters from Elsewhere: Cicely

Post author By Miriam Drori
Post date Sep 14, 2018
3 Comments on Letters from Elsewhere: Cicely

I’m a bit worried about today’s visitor. I think she’s supposed to be in a lunatic asylum and I’m not sure how she got here. If you don’t hear from me again, expect the worst.

Dear Patrick,

It is worse than we ever imagined it would be. The first few days were the worst: the shock of my new surroundings, those abhorrent acts of brutality, the threat of which lingers in the shadows, leaps out at the merest look of defiance. But – and this has come as a shock to me – I have quickly grown used to the place and seem to be able to block out all but the most severe cruelties. I have lost track already of how many days I have been here – very few though, perhaps eight or nine. It feels like so much longer; I miss you and Fleur terribly. Maybe it is best not to dwell on it, after all, I must remember my purpose here. My motives are good; I just hope nobody will judge me too harshly for them.

There is no harm in any of the women. Indeed, there is one I believe I can even count on as a friend. She is a brave soul, Minette Dolan, only about eighteen or nineteen years old. She is very protective of the more vulnerable patients and has shown me the way to survive in this place. When I asked her how long she had been here, she said she didn’t know. She knows the date she came in here, she says, but does not know what date it is now, or even which day of the week, for we are not allowed a clock or calendar. When I asked what had brought her to Saint Anne’s, she looked me dead in the eye and said, “Moral insanity.”

She would not be drawn on it any further, and I have considered it for some time: moral insanity, what could that possibly mean? Dolan believes she can communicate with the spirit world; she gives comfort to some of the women here, women who have lost children or loved ones. I don’t believe there is any malice in her; she is misguided, that’s all. What harm could it do, to offer solace by bringing messages from the other side?

And yet women like Dolan are ten a penny in this Godforsaken city. We have met women like Dolan before, have we not? Since coming here I have thought about Soubrette often, the charlatan in her red room, with her ringed fingers and china figurines all rattling on her shelves.

In the end, I believe you nearly fell for her, but I think perhaps you wanted to. You had more at stake than me. One could be forgiven for being deceived.

It is time you let go, Patrick, let go of the past and start living again. Pictures of Magdalen are dotted all over the house; the portrait of her standing at the top of a horseshoe-shaped staircase with a flower garden behind her, another taken after she died. That one sits in a frame on your dresser in our bedroom. It is hard to live up to the memory of a ghost.

Ghosts – our house is full of them. There is Zeus, also, who you had prepared and stuffed, sitting always at our fireside, menacing me with his glassy stare. He never liked me; he was Magdalen’s dog, forever slobbering on me and pinning me against walls with his docile weight. Magdalen’s dog, Magdalen’s husband, Magdalen’s bed and her wardrobe full of clothes. There is only Fleur who is really mine.

I know you will never forget Magdalen – I wouldn’t want you to – but it’s time to let her rest in peace. We can talk about it more when I come home. It won’t be long now. I only say this because I love you. I love you and Fleur more than anything in this world, and can’t wait to see you both, just as soon as my work here is done.

Yours, always,
Cicely

Thanks for that, Cicely. And to the rest of you: you don’t really have to worry about me because Cicely comes from the pages of (soon to be released) Delirium by the very talented Emma Rose Millar.

About Delirium

1881

Saint Anne’s Lunatic Asylum, London

One woman whose secret has brought her to the brink of insanity; another who claims she can tell fortunes and communicate with the dead. With seemingly no way out – and everything at stake – only one of them has the tenacity to survive.

Lies, murder, obsession… Delirium.

View the trailer here.

Find Delirium on Amazon.

About the Author

Emma Rose Millar is a single mum from Birmingham who works part-time as a sign language interpreter. She writes historical fiction for adults and poetry for children. Her first novel, Five Guns Blazing, won the Chaucer Award, (Legend Category) in 2016. Her novella, The Women Friends: Selina, co-written with Miriam Drori, was shortlisted for the Goethe Award for Late Historical Fiction in 2016. Delirium is her third novel and was shortlisted for the Chanticleer Paranormal Book Awards in 2017. Some of Emma’s children’s poems will be published in 2019 by The Emma Press.

In her spare time, Emma enjoys swimming, yoga and ice-skating, and makes delicious chocolates.

Tags Crooked Cat Books, Delirium, Emma Rose Millar

Books Letters from Elsewhere

Letters from Elsewhere: Andrew Shepherd

Post author By Miriam Drori
Post date Sep 7, 2018
No Comments on Letters from Elsewhere: Andrew Shepherd

Please welcome Andrew Shepherd, today’s visitor. Unfortunately, Andrew’s life hasn’t turned out the way he hoped and expected. Fifteen years ago, he and Matthew Clancy were brilliant young genetic researchers on the Human Genome Project at Cambridge University. But a scandal caused them to lose their jobs, and nowadays Shepherd finds himself down on his luck, teaching biology part-time at a young offenders’ institute. Clancy, meanwhile, became a professor and now has a successful genetic testing company. You can read Shepherd’s letter to Clancy. It’s more than a little disturbing!

Andrew Shepherd has flown in from the pages of the soon-to-be-released thriller, Reprobation by Catherine Fearns, another Crooked Cat novel.

20^th July, 2017

Dear Matthew,

I hope this finds you well. You made yourself very clear at our last meeting, but I feel I must make one final attempt to bring you in on the OS1 project.

The preliminary results are astounding, and I am convinced it will be a success. Both patients are doing very well. Patient 1 was initially unresponsive, but following a course of dexamethasone the virus began to take, and I can now confirm the soteriological marker is present throughout his body. The lad hasn’t quite grasped the necessity of periodic boosters throughout his lifetime, but I believe that further Bible study will convince him.

But Patient 2, Matthew, Patient 2! A viable pregnancy was achieved after only two months, and I must congratulate myself there on my amateur IVF abilities. The foetus is now at 20 weeks’ gestation, and both mother and baby are in full possession of the OS1 marker. She is a simple girl, and although it pains me to say it, her learning difficulties proved useful in getting her to accept the treatment. She is living with me, and I feel that I am justified in having rescued her from a life of violence and poverty to one of, well, what can we say? As for the birth, I am in two minds as to whether it should take place in hospital. There may be dark forces of which we are unaware, working against us, and this baby must be protected. The pregnancy is currently unregistered, and if you were to come in on this, Matthew, we both know someone who could help her deliver at home.

Think of it! A child born without sin; think of what it means! All we ever wanted as geneticists was to make a difference, and what greater difference could there be. Matthew, you cannot deny what we discovered. Together; yes, we discovered it together. What happened in Cambridge was not blasphemy, and it was not by chance. You say that you fear the consequences of deviating from God’s plan, but this, Matthew, this is God’s plan for us. We are prophets. More than prophets, we could be the veritable architects of the Second Coming.

I intend to submit the paper, with or without your blessing. You cannot prevent it. This secret is not ours to keep. The title shall be ‘Spontaneous versus artificial mutation of the OS1 gene: a soteriological approach’ by Andrew Shepherd, PhD. I had hoped that your name would be on it too; indeed without the support of your good name and institution I have no credibility. Baptiste has been generous in supplying the necessary equipment for my lab; however he is not the person I need.

And so in vain hope, I leave you with the latest draft of my research paper. I hope it will become our research paper.

Yours,

Andrew

About Reprobation

Are You One Of The Elect?

Dr. Helen Hope is a lecturer in eschatology – the study of death, judgement, and the destiny of humankind. She is also a Calvinist nun, her life devoted to atoning for a secret crime. When a body is found crucified on on a Liverpool beach, she forms an unlikely alliance with suspect Mikko Kristensen, lead guitarist in death metal band Total Depravity. Together, they go on the trail of a rogue geneticist who they believe holds the key – not just to the murder, but to something much darker. Also on the trail is cynical Scouse detective Darren Swift. In his first murder case, he must confront his own lack of faith as a series of horrific crimes drag the city of two cathedrals to the gates of hell.

You can buy Reprobation on Amazon.

About Catherine Fearns

Catherine Fearns is a music journalist from Liverpool, UK. She writes about heavy metal for Pure Grain Audio, Broken Amp and Noisey, and her short fiction and non-fiction has appeared in Offshoots, Toasted Cheese, Succubus, Here Comes Everyone and Metal Music Studies. She is a member of the Crime Writers’ Association. Reprobation is her first novel and has a Kindle release date of 16th October 2018 (paperback edition available now). A sequel, Consuming Fire, has been signed for publication in early 2019.

You can find Catherine on her website and on Twitter.

Tags Catherine Fearns, Crooked Cat Books, religion, thriller