It’s taken me a little while to get around to writing about my Romantic Novel Awards win. There are a number of reasons for that, not least that I was so completely overwhelmed.

Back in December, when I got an email from Katrina Power congratulating me on being shortlisted, I had to read it a few times before the reality sank in. Prior to that, I’d been so browbeaten by bad news that I wasn’t used to hearing good things.

I wrote about my experiences for The Pink Heart Society, so I won’t go into detail here but, in summary, my lovely husband died unexpectedly of a heart attack in September 2018 and six weeks later I was diagnosed with cancer.

I finally came down to earth and established that Katrina’s email was real. My Harlequin Romantic Suspense/Mills and Boon Heroes story, Secret Baby, Second Chance, was a finalist in the Libertà Shorter Romantic Novel Award.

From that moment on, I had a new focus. I was determined to be in London for the awards ceremony. It wasn’t going to be easy. With weekly chemotherapy sessions, other hospital visits,  and just the general “cancery-ness” of cancer, it felt like I was trying to climb a mountain (a suitable metaphor for Secret Baby, my mountain murder mystery).

With some trepidation, I approached the subject with my oncologist. I’ll call him Dr. E (although his real name is Douglas Errington). He immediately went into full-on planning mode and agreed to give me a break from treatment during the week of the awards. His letters to his colleagues from then on included the phrase “she has an important literary event to attend.”

As well as Dr. E, the other medical professionals who got me to London included Sam, my Macmillan nurse, Ram, my breast surgeon, and all the staff on the Delamere ward at the Clatterbridge Cancer Centre (because my mum, who accompanies me to chemo, told everyone about the award).

My lovely sister, Laura, came to London with me. We went to a show and had lunch with the lovely team from Mills and Boon. It was wonderful to meet Mills and Boon Historical author, Jenni Fletcher, whose books are now at the top of my “to be read” list and Liz Fielding, the oh-so-deserving recipient of an Outstanding Achievement Award and all-round amazing romance writer.

The awards ceremony was held in the Gladstone Library at One Whitehall Place. It was an impressive environment!

Laura and I were briefly displaced from the Mills and Boon table and adopted by the lovely team at Hodder and Stoughton, before returning to sit with our own group. I had been so focused on getting there, that winning genuinely hadn’t crossed my mind. Then this happened…

That was when I realised I would have to say something. I think I said “thank you” to the people who mattered. My editor and agent, the team at Harlequin/Mills and Boon, my family. And, most important of all, my lovely husband, who would have been so proud. I know I forgot Dr. E…

I don’t know if I will ever be able to express what that night meant to me. Winning the award was incredible. Alongside that, the warmth and generosity of the RNA members was simply overwhelming. The boost to my spirits from their kindness  and good wishes is still with me and will last for a long time.

What the awards confirmed is how amazing the romance community is. In a world where it’s easy to be cynical, it’s wonderful to know there are people who  care and a place where love will always matter.

Most of my books are available in print or as ebooks from all major retailers, but I am excited to be publishing a series of contemporary romances in serial form on the Radish fiction app.

Frequently Asked Questions

Q. What is Radish?
A. Radish is a mobile app for serial fiction, you read it on your phone or tablet.

Q. What is serial fiction?
A. Serial fiction is stories that are published one chapter at a time. It’s like a multi-part television mini-series, but for written fiction.

Q. How much is the Radish app?
A. It’s free!

Q. Are the stories on Radish free?
A. Lots of stories on the Radish app are free. Others are premium, which means that you must pay to read each chapter of a story (except for the first few chapters which are free to read). Some stories are freemium.

Q. What is a freemium story?
A. A freemium story is one which you don’t have to pay to read. Each week, one chapter becomes free. The chapters after that are “locked”, meaning you pay to read them. However, if you’re willing to wait for these chapters to “unlock” (i.e., become free) then you can read the whole story without paying anything. Readers pay for “locked” chapters if they don’t want to wait weeks to be able to read them.

Q. How do I pay for locked chapters/premium stories on Radish?
A. You can pay using Radish coins. You buy them, or you could win them in a giveaway (by Radish or any of their fabulous authors). To buy Radish coins, on the home screen of the app, look for your profile icon on the bottom right (it’s labelled “You”).

Q. What Jane Godman stories are available on Radish?
A. The very first episode of my contemporary romance, Out of her League, is now available! You can read it for free on the Radish app.

It’s like being in survival mode 24/7. If you let go of that thread, there is always the fear that you will never be able to find it again.
Living with illness means living with the fear of stigma. If you are trying to sell your work, you are also selling yourself. If the package is less that perfect, will anyone want to buy it? When there are so many other products (books, paintings, films, songs) out there, are you going to take that chance?
No. So chances are, you do drag yourself out of bed and pin on a smile. You are harder on yourself than anyone else would ever be. You use up all your creative energy and drive on just getting through the next few hours and then you wonder why you feel even worse the next day.
I’m going to keep writing about this subject, but I have one simple thing I keep in mind when it comes to self-care.
When you travel on a plane, the air crew will tell you that, in the event you might need oxygen, you must put your own mask on before you help others. Even though the reasons are different, the underlying message applies to life as well as to a plane journey: If you don’t look after yourself first, you may not be able to look after anyone else.

#livewell

Love,
Jane

But one of my most usual searches recently has been ‘what does the Arctic smell like?’. I’ve never been to the Arctic, but the heroes of my new six book series are Arctic werewolves, and scent is very important to a wolf.

The answers ranged from ‘nothing’ to a surprising variety of scents. People who have lived in the Arctic Circle and moved away remember an evocative range of smells from lichen and berries to Tiilaqait tea and Salmonberry ice cream.

So, in my books, that’s what the Arctic smells like. More importantly, that’s what my Arctic werewolves smell like to each other…

Ice Wolf and Shadow Wolf are the first books in a series of six from SMP Swerve.

They tell the story of the Arctic Brotherhood, an ancient order of werewolves who have sworn to protect the world from the forces of evil.

Arctics are unique. Where other werewolves are governed by the phases of the moon, the brotherhood shift by the light of the midnight sun.

I can’t wait for you to meet the brotherhood and discover more about their icy world and steamy antics!

The Unforgettable Wolf is my fifth Harlequin Nocturne. It tells the story of Nate Zilar, rock star by day, werewolf hunter by night.

When Nate rescues a beautiful, naked woman from the jaws of a feral werewolf, he is forced to rethink everything he once believed about werewolves.

Can the hunter fall for his prey? Where there’s a wolf, there’s a way…

Nate and Violet’s love story is one of my favorites! I loved writing it, It made me laugh and cry and I was so glad I could give them a happy ending. This book also introduces the band Beast, who have their own stories coming along in 2018…

Ice Wolf Purchase Links: Amazon US Amazon UK Macmillan Barnes & Noble Kobo iTunes Google Play

Shadow Wolf Purchase Links: Amazon US Amazon UK Macmillan Barnes & Noble Kobo iTunes Google Play

The Unforgettable Wolf Purchase Links: Amazon US Amazon UK Harlequin Barnes & Noble Kobo iTunes Google Play

There are many stories told about King Arthur, The Once and Future King, but the legend surrounding his birth is one of the most fascinating.

Arthur’s father was Uther Pendragon, King of the Britons,  and his mother was Igraine, Duchess of Cornwall. At the time of Arthur’s conception, Igraine was married to another man. Her husband, Gorlois, Duke of Cornwall, was one of Uther’s allies. Gorlois was a brave soldier, who was loyal to his king.

The two men clashed over Uther’s open desire for Igraine.  When Gorlois defied the king by taking Igraine away from London without Uther’s permission, it led to open hostility between the two men.

The story is that Merlin used his magic powers to disguise Uther as Gorlois. While Gorlois was away fighting Uther’s army, Uther entered the iconic Cornish castle of Tintagel and had sex with Igraine. Arthur was conceived and the legend of Camelot was born. Gorlois died that night and Uther and Igraine were free to marry.

My fascination with the Arthurian legends is well known, and I wanted to write an ‘up close’ and personal—okay, erotic—account of some of the characters. Giving them sex lives seemed like a way to get to know them better…and they have VERY exciting sex lives!

Igraine has always fascinated me, even though her character lacks depths in many of the legends. She is described as ‘beautiful’. So what? She must have had more than beauty to drive Uther, and Merlin, to such lengths.

In my story, Igraine is the most beautiful woman in the world. She is the daughter of a fae, and every man she meets desires her. I think this makes it easier to understand how the King of Britain and the Duke of Cornwall would go to war over her.

My writing was constrained by the legend itself, but calling this story as a romance was sometimes difficult. Uther and Igraine do get their happily-ever-after, but their love story begins when she is married to another man, and Uther’s actions are not always heroic.

I do call this a romance, however. Uther and Igraine are the ultimate ‘fated mates’. They are predestined to be together.  Their son, Arthur, was the long-awaited man who would be a great king and his birth required mystical intervention. Sadly, Gorlois (a misguided, but not evil, character in my story) had to die for them to be together.

Blurb

Igraine is the most beautiful woman in the world and her destiny is to become the mother of King Arthur. The daughter of a mysterious fae, every man she meets desires her. Married to a man who dominates her body, Igraine is in love with a man she has never met.

Uther Pendragon, the mighty King of Britain is said to be more god than man. When the great sorcerer, Merlin, promises Uther he will marry the beautiful woman who features in his erotic dreams, the consequences threaten to tear his kingdom apart.

Excerpt

Cheshire, Britain 463 AD
Gorlois, Duke of Cornwall, was a fine figure of a man. Tall, proud, and strong, he was broad-chested and powerfully built, with a square jaw beneath a black beard and eyes that were ever watchful for the sword of an enemy or the hand of a friend. Gorlois was a soldier. Brave in battle, loud of voice, hard muscled, and tough as a leopard about to spring. His men could count on him to lead them well, and in return, they gave him their undying devotion. The only other man in the country who inspired stronger feelings in his followers was the legendary Welsh king, Uther Pendragon.

Tender feelings did not come easily to a man like Gorlois. Women were to be used, enjoyed, and tossed aside. That was his view of the world. Until one day, while visiting the castle of his good friend Ragnor of Christleton, he took a walk in a rose-bower.

As he strolled along a grassy pathway banked with yews and hemmed with a rich tangle of pink and red blooms, a young woman came into view. She was tall and slender, with red-gold hair hanging loose in shining waves to below her waist. Her skin was like cream and her lips, when they parted in surprise at his unexpected approach, rivaled the surrounding roses in their perfection.

Gorlois had a powerful vision of sliding his cock into the waiting warmth of that perfect mouth. Whoever she was, he was going to have this woman. Silently he cursed the fact that her clothes denoted her status as a lady. If not, he’d have been tempted to throw her down on the grass and take her there and then. Anything to relieve the sudden throbbing ache inside his tight hose.

She dipped a slight curtsy and turned away.

“Lady, tarry awhile, if you will.” Although courtly speeches did not come easily to him, Gorlois spoke quickly, before she could leave. “I am recently returned from battle, and your dainty company will gladden my soldier’s heart.”

She appeared to debate the matter. Then, with a shy smile that struck him in both chest and groin with equal intensity, she came to walk beside him. “I know who you are, sir.” Her voice was low and husky. “My kind hosts have told me much of the bravery of the mighty Gorlois of Cornwall.”

Her eyes were a blue so dark they appeared violet. Their dark lashes swept down over her cheeks, tantalizing Gorlois as he imagined this was how she would look beneath him when he thrust into her. “And your name, lady?”

“I am Igraine.”

Igraine is priced at just $0.99 until February 15.

Avaiable from:

Tirgearr Publishing

Amazon US

Amazon UK

Smashwords

Apple

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Nook

Belsnickel
The Belsnickel is from the Palantine region of Germany. He shows up a week or two before Christmas, looking very ragged and mean dressed in ginger furs. In addition to his torn, tattered clothes he carries a switch in his hand with which to beat bad children. He knows exactly which children have misbehaved. Traditionally he uses the switch to punish them for past wrongs or the threat of the switch to ensure good behavior until Christmastime. ​When the Belsnickel visits their homes to check up on children he announces his presence with a loud rap on the door or window with his stick. The children have to answer a question for him or sing him a song. If they are good and answer well, he will toss candies onto the floor. However if the children jump too quickly for the treats, they may end up getting a smack from the switch for being too greedy.

Grýla
Grýla was an ogre living in Iceland. Her third husband was a troll named Leppalúði. She also had a fiendish cat called the Yule Cat… and thirteen mischievous sons known as the Yule Lads.

Grýla, had a horrible appearance with hooves, horns and a tail. She also had a habit of boiling and eating the children she kidnapped. In her defense she only did that to bad children.

She used her supernatural sense of hearing to listen for misbehaving children all around the island. Around midwinter (Christmas time) she would leave her cave and collect the badly behaved children. The kidnapped children could repent their misdeeds and not be eaten.

Her story was so effective in traumatizing children into behaving that in 1746 a decree was adopted by the government to prohibit the use of Grýla’s story.

Kallikantzaroi
There is a belief in Southeastern Europe and Turkey of the existence of a race of underground goblins called the Kallikantzaroi. They spend the year sawing the roots of the World Tree trying to bring it to collapse and destroy the earth. Just as they are about to finish the twelve days of Christmas begin.

This is the only time of the year they can emerge and torment humans, so they abandon their sawing and head to the surface. In their absence, the world tree heals itself and the cycle starts anew after the twelfth day. Humans can protect themselves from the Kallikantzaroi during this time. One way is to leave a colander on their doorstep. As they cannot count to 3 (it is a holy number) they will spend all night on the doorstep counting up to 2.

Another method of protection is to leave the Yule Log or a fire burning in the fireplace so that they cannot enter through there. You can also put smelly shoes on the fire as an additional deterrent. Another way to keep them away is to mark your door with a black cross on Christmas Eve and burn incense.

And now for an excerpt from my featured Blissemass book, One for Sorrow…

“Dora.” Finn emerged from the narrow passage between the two cottages and stayed there, watching her. She wondered if he might have been waiting for her. She hoped he had. Very aware suddenly of the expanse of leg between skirt and shoes, she went to him. He drew her further into the shadows.

“I’m going to dinner at Eamon Archer’s house.” He hadn’t asked, so why did she feel the need to explain?

“I like this.” He slid his hand inside the sleeve of her blouse, caressing her upper arm. Dora had never been keen on relationships. The sense that her body was someone else’s to touch—to own—had never been a comfortable idea for her. How then, in this short space of time, had she reached a point where she never wanted Finn Brodie to stop touching her?

“I’d rather be here with you.”

“I know.”

Drawing her into his arms, he held her in that way that was unique to him. Exquisitely tender and yet heart-stoppingly stimulating. His lips, although they barely touched hers, told Dora a thousand things he could never articulate with his stilted speech. With a murmur of surrender, her own lips parted, allowing him to probe her mouth with his tongue, tasting and testing her. Breaking the kiss to move his head lower, he found her nipple, sucking hard through the thin fabric of her blouse. Weak-kneed, Dora leaned back against the cottage wall. Taking her hand in his, Finn placed it inside his jeans so that she could feel the taut muscles of his lower abdomen. Eagerly, Dora’s fingers travelled lower, seeking out his cock within the tight confines of his underwear. He was rock hard.

Dora groaned. “Is this what my life is going to be like from now on, Finn? I’m going to be soaking wet all the time, thinking of you?”

​One For Sorrow is available from Amazon

The Venetian lagoon is sprinkled with jewels, and one of them, of course, shines brighter than all the others put together. But just five miles from the dazzling gem that is Venice there sits a lonely, black opal. Its name is Poveglia. In contrast to its fascinating neighbor, it is silent and abandoned. An uninhabited, forbidden island. No tourists flock to these shores for romantic meals or gondola rides. There are no palaces or elegant bridges. And the differences don’t end there. Poveglia does not share Venice’s carnival mood, colors, heady scents and bright lights. There are no masquerades or festivals on Poveglia. No dancing in the streets.

Known as the most haunted place on earth, Poveglia’s history reads like a horror story. It has been a quarantine station, a dumping ground for plague victims, a mental institution where a butcher experimented on the inmates…

It is said that so many people were burned and buried there that the soil is mostly human ash, that the local fishermen will not trawl its waters for fear of netting the bones of their ancestors, and that the psychiatrist who ran the hospital was strangled by a ghostly mist. Rumors abound, fueled by the fact that, even though Poveglia is a mere boat ride from Venice, it is almost impossible to visit the island. What caused this island’s history to become so tainted that it is spoken of only in whispers?

The History of Poveglia
The first reference to the island can be found in the year 421, when people from Padua and Este fled there to escape the barbarian invasions. In 809, the residents heroically blocked the advance of the Frankish army into the Venetian lagoon. In 864, when Doge Pietro Tradonico was murdered by opposing Venetian nobles, several hundred of his followers fled to Poveglia. This increase in the island’s population earned it the status of podestà, or administrative municipality.

In 1015, the Romanesque church of San Vitale was built on Poveglia with an attached monastery, and under this stabilizing influence, a small community of houses, gardens and vineyards thrived. Poveglia knew peace for close to four centuries, due largely to the rights conferred on its inhabitants to guide ships in and out of the harbor of Malamocco on the Lido.

In 1379, during the War of Chioggia between the Venetian Republic (the Serenissima) and Genoa, the government moved the whole population of Poveglia to another island, Giudecca. It is not clear whether this was to protect them, or because they were conniving with the enemy. A permanent fortification called the Octagon, which is still visible today, was built on strategically important Poveglia.

Poveglia’s story took another sinister turn in 1468 when the Venetian Republic designated the island as a lazaretto. Named after the biblical leper, Lazarus, a lazaretto was a place of confinement and isolation for carriers of contagious diseases, particularly of leprosy and plague. Thus, Poveglia became a quarantine station for the many ships entering the Laguna Veneta. Any vessels that were suspected of bearing plague, or other potentially infectious diseases, were detained at anchor just off the island’s shores until the authorities were satisfied that no contamination would be spread to the residents of Venice itself.

Poveglia began to pose a problem for the Most Serene Republic of Venice. Fishermen shunned the lagoon waters around its shores. Despite the fact that the fertile soil was ideal for growing grapes and olives, farmers always found compelling reasons why it would be better to settle elsewhere. In an attempt to reverse its reputation, in 1527 the Doge offered the island to the Camadolese monks. The monks refused.

With the arrival of the Black Death in 1576, thousands of dead bodies piled up in the streets of Venice. The stench of disease was appalling. The solution was to take the bodies to Poveglia and dump them in large pits or burn them on huge bonfires. As the bubonic plague tightened its grip on the Serene Republic, people panicked, and those showing even the slightest symptoms were dragged screaming from their homes and into waiting barges. At least one hundred thousand people were said to have died on Poveglia, forcibly transported there from their Venetian homes. Once the boats reached Poveglia, the dead were taken over the bridge to the plague-pits while the living took their chances in the ruins of the medieval settlement. As the epidemic intensified, the island became so overcrowded that the living were flung into burial pits or pitchforked onto bonfires along with the dead.

In 1630, health measures were relaxed during the season of the carnevale, leading to another outbreak of plague. The city of Venice was severely hit, with recorded casualties of 46,000 people out of a population of 140,000. Poveglia was once more used as the lazaretto. In 1661 the Doge offered the descendants of the original islanders the chance to move back to Poveglia and to rebuild their homes. They refused.

In 1805, under Napoleon’s rule, the church that had been on Poveglia for centuries was destroyed and the bell tower converted into a lighthouse. This razing of the last testament of its inhabited past marked the island’s grim entry into the modern era.

In 1922 the island became home to a psychiatric hospital. The patients of the hospital reported that they could see ghosts of plague victims on the island and that they were kept awake at night by the tortured wails of the suffering spirits.

The story is that the doctor in charge decided to make a name for himself by experimenting on his subjects to find a cure for insanity.  Lobotomies were performed using crude tools like hand drills, chisels, and hammers.  Patients were taken to the bell tower where they were tortured and subjected to a number of inhumane horrors.

According to Poveglia folklore, after many years of performing these immoral acts, the evil doctor succumbed to the madness and began to see and hear the plague ridden spirits himself.  It is said that he threw himself from the bell tower, but he didn’t die.  According to a nurse who witnessed the incident, as he lay on the ground writhing in pain, a ghostly mist came up out of the ground and choked him to death.  The hospital was closed in 1968 and Poveglia has been abandoned ever since.

In 2014, Poveglia was put up for auction and bought for the sum of €513,000 (roughly $704,000) by Italian businessman Luigi Brugnaro. Opposition to Brugnaro’s bid from the community group Poveglia per Tutti (Poveglia for All), and the fact that Brugnaro is now Mayor of Venice, brought an end to his plans. At present, the future of the island remains undecided.

Poveglia is the inspiration and setting for my gothic romance Island of Shadows.

It’s here at last! I couldn’t wait any longer to share the cover for the third book in the Otherworld Series. What do you think? I hope you agree with me that it’s every bit as beautiful as the first two.

Otherworld Challenger will be published by Harlequin Nocturne in September 2016 and here’s a short extract, just to tempt you…

“I’ll do it.”

The words had the same effect on the assembled company as a volley of bullets fired into the ornate ceiling of the vast banquet hall. Every head turned in the direction of the man who had uttered them. Lounging back on two legs of his chair, his broad shoulders against the wall and his booted feet on the round meeting table, he returned their stares with his customary nonchalance and continued munching on an apple.

“You can’t seriously be prepared to listen to him. He’d sell his grandmother to the imps if the price was right.” The words burst from Vashti’s lips before she could stop them.

“The Crown Princess Vashti is reminded of the Alliance’s fundamental principle of respect for all species.” The condemnatory voice of the clerk echoed around the room. “Moreover, all speakers must first be approved by Merlin Caledonius, Leader of the Council.”

Vashti felt a blush of embarrassment turn the heat of rage already burning her cheeks a darker shade of red. It didn’t help that he was openly smirking at her humiliation. “I withdraw my remark.” She spoke the words stiffly.

“Thank you.” Merlin Caledonius, or Cal as he preferred to be known, inclined his head in her direction before turning to address Jethro de Loix. “What will you do exactly?”

“Exactly what you want. Find the true King of the Faeries and bring him back here to challenge Moncoya for the crown.”
​
A murmur of interest rippled around the table and Vashti smothered her derisive exclamation by turning it into a cough. Couldn’t any of them see Jethro de Loix for the maverick he was? Even the way he was dressed flouted convention. Everyone else around the table respected the formality of the occasion. Not Jethro. His white-linen shirt was unbuttoned a little too far, the waistcoat he wore over it hung casually open. Those long, long legs were encased in a pair of well-worn black jeans and the battered boots that rested on the conference table looked like they had walked the length of Otherworld and back. Perhaps they had. With his overlong jet-black hair tied at the nape of his neck with a leather thong and his hawklike profile he was too—her mind searched for a suitable adjective and could only come up with swashbuckling—for this solemn setting.

Otherworld Challenger is available to pre-order from
Amazon 
Barnes and Noble
iTunes
Google Play

I’m often asked to explain what a gothic romance is, but sometimes I find it easier to explain what gothic romances are not, rather than what they are:

• Gothics are not paranormal romances. As a rule of thumb, the main protagonists in a gothic romance should be human beings. They may be affected by the supernatural or the unexplained, but they are not supernatural beings themselves. It’s possible they may be reincarnated, cursed or affected by ghosts. If they are vampires, werewolves, shifters etc. you are writing a paranormal romance not a gothic.
• Gothics are not horror stories. They may have strong elements of horror, but it is implied rather than explicit. It’s a creaking board in the attic or a trail of blood on the stairs. If your story features a chainsaw wielding killer carrying a severed head, you are writing horror not gothic.
• New gothics do have strong elements of eroticism. This can be implied or explicit. Steamy is good in a gothic romance, hot sex scenes go well with dark secrets. But gothic romances are not erotic romances. If sex is all your story has, you are not writing gothic!