Spotlight: Fall Out by M. N. Grenside

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Publisher: Bloodhound Books

Pages: 455

Genre: Thriller

An LA screenwriter is killed shortly after completing his latest script, FALL OUT – a thriller destined to be a blockbuster but written with a secret double purpose.  Echoing events from the past, the screenplay is sent to a very specific group of people and will change their lives forever.  All are connected to a movie that had abruptly stopped shooting in the jungles of the Philippines years before.  FALL OUT exposes the truth about a conspiracy and murder that led to a half-a-billion-dollar fortune for a select few.

Follow the story of Producer Marcus Riley, who sets out on an increasingly dangerous quest to get FALL OUT made.  From a powerful agent’s office in Hollywood, hidden treasures in Belgravia and a remote chalet in the Swiss Alps to murder at the Cannes Film Festival, Marcus teams up with designer Melinda (Mako) de Turris as they and the other recipients of the screenplay are pursued by an assassin from the past.

With clues cleverly concealed in the screenplay, Marcus and Mako unravel a lethal puzzle that for some will bring death, others the truth and ends in a cave with a shocking secret…

Book Excerpt

“Fingers burnt, huh, playing with the big boys? You should have stayed on your side of the pond making Godfather knock-offs with a cockney accent.” The man extended his hand towards Marcus. 

Straightening up to his full height, Marcus looked down at the outstretched hand 

“Do you validate?” he asked dropping his parking ticket into it. 

 As Marcus drove his cheap rental out through the wrought iron studio gates, he went over his options. There were few. The best seemed to be to get blind drunk. He was teetering at the tipping point; nearly broke, his judgement was suspect, and he’d just been dismissed by the entire Hollywood system. He pulled into a liquor store parking lot. 

“A bottle of Chivas Legend Special Reserve,” he said, pointing at the most expensive whisky in the shop.

“Celebrating?” the girl smiled.

“Death of my career,” replied Marcus. “Just want to give it a good send-off.” 

Two hours later he collapsed fully clothed onto the thin mattress of the bed of his motel room.

It was dark when he woke up with a hangover so bad his hair hurt. He sat up checked, his tousled brown locks in the mirror and pulled his long fingers down the sides of his cheeks. He stuck out his tongue and pulled down his eyelids, the green iris flecked with brown, but the whites of his eyes were bloodshot. Not a good look at twenty. Bad in your forties.

“Great career farewell,” he murmured.

He gulped down a glass of water and four Tylenol and picked up the phone to check his emails. A voice mail icon flashed reminding him of the badly timed call from that morning. He dialed to retrieve the message.

“Hi Marcus, Sam Wood here. Tough out here, eh? They tell me you not staying quite at five-star hotels these days,” said the broad Australian accent.  “So, I am sending you my latest script…see what you think…. if it rings any bells, jogs any memories. Oh, and Balzac was right.”

Sam Wood. Marcus was in shock. At the very moment his world was collapsing around him, one of the most successful writers in Hollywood had sent him a screenplay. Sam was the last person on earth Marcus expected to hear from, let alone receive a script. Twenty years ago, he and Sam had been almost brothers, but on a typhoon-lashed movie set, their bond had been broken by death and violence. They had not spoken since.

He stood stock still for a moment trying to absorb the enormity of that call. A beat, then he rushed down the thinly carpeted hallway to the reception desk.

“You have anything for me?” he panted as he reached the reception desk.

The young girl on duty looked up startled by the tall disheveled Englishman.

“I’m sorry. No manners,” Marcus took a deep breath. “Please, did anything come for me by courier today, while I was…out?”

She handed over a manila envelope. “I knocked on your room, but you were…no answer…,” she trailed off as Marcus gave her his last twenty-dollar bill as a tip and ran back up the corridor.

Shutting the door, Marcus ripped open the envelope. Inside was a screenplay, titled FALL OUT, with a handwritten note attached.

Dear Marcus,

THE SECRET OF A GREAT SUCCESS FOR WHICH YOU ARE AT A LOSS TO ACCOUNT IS A CRIME THAT HAS NEVER BEEN FOUND OUT, BECAUSE IT WAS PROPERLY EXECUTED. -Honoré de Balzac

You’ve got an eighteen-month free option.

Sam

An hour later and with shaking hands, Marcus put down the screenplay. His body was pumping pure adrenaline. FALL OUT was far and away the best thing the Australian had ever written. A gripping plot with box office smash written all over it. It was exactly what Marcus needed. 

Buy on Amazon Kindle | Audible | Paperback | Bookshop.org

About the Author

Mark Grenside, born and raised in London, began his working career straight out of school at Lloyds of London, specializing in Kidnap, Ransom and Extortion Insurance. At 25 it was time for a career change and to dump the suit and tie, so he started his media career working for Jim Henson and The Muppets©. From that moment on he has been involved in Entertainment and nearly every aspect of it.

He went on to create and produce several television series and mini-series. At the same time, he started a music management company launching million seller artist Neneh Cherry.

In 2004 he arranged the US $250 million buy-out of the Hallmark Channel International which was then successfully sold to NBC. He returned to producing a number of movies and mini-series.

He has recently morphed into a serial entrepreneur and is now a co-founder of seed to shelf CBD producer Dragonfly Biosciences (www.dragonflybiosciences.com) and a founder in two separate digital companies.

In addition to his love of cooking, an unhealthy amount of time and money is lavished on a collection of classic cars that he has raced all over the world. He enjoys risk and has parachuted in New Zealand, scuba-dived in the Pacific, hang-glided in the Himalayas and even tobogganed down the Cresta Run. In nearly every case chasing after his wife who is utterly fearless!

He is now writing the follow up to Fall Out, entitled The Bastion. In addition, he writes a humorous blog with subscribers in more than 40 countries. www.andanotherthing.com

He has two grown sons, two daughters’-in-law, three grandchildren and lives in Malta with his wife and two French bulldogs.

Mark’s latest book is the thriller, Fall Out.

You can visit his website at www.MNGrenside.com and his blog at www.AndAnotherThing.com or connect with him on Twitter, Facebook and Goodreads.

Spotlight: Between Lost and Found and Infinite by Kathy Kimbray

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Poetry

Date Published: 06-06-2022

Between Lost and Found and Infinite is a collection of sixty poems divided into three parts.

Lost explores the futility of unhappy endings.

Found injects hope into despair, rising with beautiful promise.

Infinite lingers on the wonders of life and reflects on the sweetness of the universe.

With themes of memory, grief, self-discovery, relationships, and longing, this is a compilation to savor and cherish.

Buy on Amazon Kindle | Paperback

About the Author

Spotlight: Wrapped Up With a Ranger by Kait Nolan

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Release Date: June 3

Can a grumpy former Ranger find lasting happiness in a marriage of convenience with a sunny single mom?

After losing his leg, former Army Ranger Holt Steele is building a new life and a new business with his friends. Sure, he never expected to put small-town baker on his resume, but he finds he likes the quiet, simple life. If only he didn't like the sunny single mom who works across the street--or her adorable kid--quite so much.

After escaping a controlling husband, event planner Cayla Black has one focus--growing her business and maintaining a safe, happy home for her daughter. She has no time or interest in a man. Not even one who charms her child with Disney songs and keeps turning up like a mind-reader to help without being asked.

But when her ex's conviction is overturned on a technicality, and he shows up intending to reclaim his wife and child, Holt intervenes with an outrageous lie. The only way to fix it is to make his falsehood the truth. As they struggle to convince everyone that their marriage of protection is real, these two reluctant hearts fall deeper, until the lines between the fiction and the dream begin to blur, and they have to risk it all to protect the family they didn't know they wanted.

Buy on Amazon Kindle | Paperback | Bookshop.org

Meet Kait Nolan

Kait Nolan is a RITA® Award-winning Mississippi author who calls everyone sugar, honey, or darlin', and can wield a 'Bless your heart' like a Snuggie or a saber, depending on requirements. She believes in love, laughter, and that tacos are the world's most perfect food. When she's not writing, reading, working the evil day job, or wrangling family (both the two-legged and the four-), you can find her obsessively watching The Great British Bake Off.

Connect with Kait Nolan:

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Amazon Author Page: https://amzn.to/359xLas

Spotlight: The Sacrifice by Kitty Thomas

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Publication date: May 23rd 2022
Genres: Adult, Dark Romance, Romance

Synopsis:

I caught the bouquet at my best friend’s wedding. I wasn’t even dating anyone, so I was sure I wouldn’t be next.

Until someone from the past came back. We’d promised if neither of us were married by the time we were thirty we’d marry each other.

But then I’m taken captive by someone else and told I am the sacrifice, that I’m now property. A payment for a debt that has nothing to do with me.

Now I wish I could go back to that boring, safe life. Because this can’t possibly be my fairy tale.

NOTE: This is a dark contemporary standalone in the Dark Wedding world.

Excerpt

I jump at the sudden knock on my door.

“Who is it?” I call from the sofa. I’m not expecting anybody, and if someone’s delivering pizza to the wrong apartment, I’d rather not get up.

“Soren.”

I bolt upright. Soren is Livia’s husband. The legal one. What’s he doing here?

“Livia isn’t here,” I call back, still not moving.

“Could you open the door, please? I’m here to talk to you.”

I struggle to get off the sofa, stopping to look in a mirror near the door. As expected, my long dark auburn curls are disheveled, and I can see the blush already starting in my cheeks, edging out the freckles dotting over my nose. I hate those freckles. I already look too innocent. Freckles are just a bridge too far in adorableness.

When I open the door, Soren sweeps right in without an invitation, smelling of whiskey and cigar smoke. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smoke a cigar, but he still smells that way. It’s like that’s just his natural masculine scent. 

I can barely stand upright in this man’s presence. Soren has a strong effect on me. I spent the entire time around Livia’s wedding trying to focus my attention on Griffin, so I wouldn’t be lusting after my best friend’s soon-to-be husband. I didn’t know at the time that Griffin was hers too. So it was a pointless waste of effort on my part. I put absolutely everything into that Oscar-worthy performance and made every effort not to even look at Soren. His pull was far too strong.

Then when I walked in on her and Griffin kissing, thinking she was cheating on the man I’d wanted… I locked myself in my car and had a long pathetic cry about it.

Soren is tall with dark forest green eyes and a body sculpted by the gods. But it isn’t his looks or even his money that I’m so attracted to. It’s his presence. The sheer dominant overpowering and terrifying essence that is Soren Kingston. Yeah, he’s the Mr. Kingston in my longstanding fantasy. I make it okay in my head by aging him a couple of decades and not letting him participate. Much. Don’t judge me.

He’s like a storm that you just know will blow through and rip you apart from the inside out, but you’re so enthralled watching it coming your way, you can’t make yourself move out of the path of devastation in time. 

“Do you have anything to drink?” he asks.

I still don’t know why he’s here, and I’m sure I’m so turned on he can tell. I wish I could turn this feeling off. I would never betray Livia—not that Soren would be into someone like me. But even if he was, I’d never hurt her. I just can’t shut off my body’s reaction to this man. 

“Y-yeah. I-I have some tea. D-do you want tea?” Oh god, why am I stuttering? And I’m sure he means like a drink drink, like an adult beverage, but I don’t really keep liquor in the house. I’m not much of a drinker, and it’s a small studio apartment so it’s not like I do a lot of entertaining here.

“That’ll be fine. Make some for yourself, too.”

It’s a command, and I swear if he were single I would strip off my clothes and kneel at his feet right now. I’ve never felt this way around a man before. I have no idea how Livia managed to go months without sleeping with him. Is it possible I feel a stronger attraction to her husband than she does? That would be tragic.

I wish he’d leave. What’s he doing in my apartment? I take a deep breath and force my mind to stop racing as I heat the water in the kettle.

“Earl Grey or English Breakfast?” I hear myself say. It doesn’t even sound like my own voice. It sounds far too high pitched and squeaky to be me. Or maybe it’s more breathy like Marilyn Monroe.

“Whatever you’re making for yourself is fine.”

We’re both silent in the kitchen. He stands several feet away, but it’s still too close. In moments like this I’m jealous of Livia. I love her like a sister, but why does she get everything? She didn’t just get one hot, wealthy, kinky guy. She got three. How is that even possible? It’s statistically very unlikely. It just isn’t fair. Meanwhile I’m about to marry a probably gay guy where I might get to have vanilla sex one time for the sake of procreation.

Lucky me.

Am I really going to marry him? Even though I’m going through the motions I’m still not sure I’ll be able to go through with it. Livia’s right though, I need to end things before the invitations get ordered. But why the hell did I buy a dress if I don’t plan to actually marry him?

And I really thought we were to a point where a man could be gay and just be open about it. Why hide behind me and pretend? But then I remember that not literally everyone in the world is up to date on this, so maybe there’s a reason he needs to hide. And I can feel sympathy for that, but it’s still not right to hide behind me.

When the teapot whistles, I pour the tea into two cups and place them on the table. I can’t stop thinking about how bizarre it is that Soren is standing in my apartment. And he still hasn’t told me why he’s here.

“Do you take milk and sugar?” I ask, desperate to fill the silence with anything but the sound of my raging heartbeat.

“Just milk.”

I go to the fridge for the milk, wondering if he’s planning some kind of surprise for Livia and wants my help. I leave the milk on the table, then grab the sugar for myself and some tea cookies out of the pantry. When I return, Soren is seated at the table, milk in his tea, already drinking.

I put sugar and milk in mine and take a couple of sips.

“So, why are you here again?” I ask. I’m sure I sound rude. I don’t mean to, but I need him out of here before he figures out how much I wish I could be with him. I mean I don’t have a crush or anything. I’m not in love with him. I just… he makes me feel like I’m in heat, and I kind of want to climb him like a tree.

“Are you nervous about something, Macy?”

I take a big gulp of my tea and then another. It’s barely cool enough to be chugging it back like this, but I need a distraction.

“What would I be nervous about?”

“Let’s not play games. I’ve seen how you react to me. You think I don’t notice how you blush when I’m near? I think there’s something dark and a little dirty in you. You probably have needs you’ve never even admitted to yourself.”

The heat that was concentrated in my cheeks spreads swiftly through the rest of my body. Oh, I’ve admitted them to myself, but thank you for that psychoanalysis. 

“You’re married,” is all I can say. Is he propositioning me? If this bastard is propositioning me I will geld him.

Soren laughs. “You’re so adorable.”

I’m about to speak again but my tongue feels… weird. I can’t make words work anymore. Soren’s face blurs in front of me. Then the world tips to the side and goes black.

Buy on Amazon Kindle | Paperback

About the Author
KITTY THOMAS writes dark stories that play with power and have unconventional HEAs. She began publishing in early 2010 with her bestselling COMFORT FOOD and is considered one of the original authors of the dark romance subgenre.

To find out FIRST when a new book comes out, subscribe to Kitty's New Release List: KITTYTHOMAS.COM

Connect:
https://kittythomas.com/
https://twitter.com/kitty_thomas
https://www.bookbub.com/authors/kitty-thomas
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Spotlight: Rebel One by J.S. Christine

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(Melkin Series, #1)
Publication date: May 13th 2022
Genres: New Adult, Romance

Synopsis:

Lacey Carson dreams of experiencing the world outside of the mundane town her father limits her to. “Go big or go home”? Lacey is already wrapped up in her comforter before that question can be finished. Her fight or flight instinct falls hard in one direction only.

Insert Travis Miller. He’s a little too loud, a little too violent, a little too focused on Lacey. He only knows how to go big.

When the opportunity presents itself for more adventure, Lacey jumps in head first before Travis can say no. It may be a little more than she bargained for as she learns about the ups and downs of independence, her own strength, and the crime world she quickly becomes immersed into.

Excerpt

I looked behind us. There was a large van with guns poking out of it.

“Oh my God,” I cried, clasping a hand to my mouth. I turned back facing forward and slouched down to keep out of the way if they shot the back window.

“Don’t go that way. Keep away from our new place,” Cameron ordered Travis as he flew past cars. He took a sharp turn, pulling up the emergency brake to make the turn before releasing it and continuing down with no regard towards the speed limit.

“What new place?” Travis shot back.

“Left. Don’t go straight. I said left,” Cameron said, pointing with his hand that had a gun in it. 

I swallowed. I had no idea what they were talking about but I didn’t care. I was not going to live much longer anyway. I held my head in my hands, massaging my temple with my fingertips.

“I don’t know where I’m going,” Travis shouted as we skidded around a sharp turn. 

My body rammed against the side of Finn’s from the force.

“Let me drive,” Ben said from next to me in the backseat at the same time Cameron yelled for them to switch.

I racked my brain for how that was going to happen. We were going more than a safe amount above the speed limit. Stopping to switch would only slow us down and even though I was a firm believer in speed limits, that option wasn’t looking too great right now.

“Take it, Cam,” Travis said as he moved back from the steering wheel.

Cameron scooted over slightly. He put one hand on the wheel and I watched in horror as he moved one leg down to where the gas pedal would be. From the speed, it felt like it was being floored. My eyes bulged.

Ben hopped in front of me at the same time Travis flicked a switch underneath his seat, causing it to move back as far as it would go. The two boys fit in the seat awkwardly as they moved around each other; Ben taking Travis’ seat and Travis crouching to climb back.

“Hey gorgeous,” Travis said as he faced me while in between the drivers and passenger’s seat. He flashed a cheeky smile before climbing to where Ben was previously seated next to me.

The whole exchange happened in the span of maybe seven seconds. I blinked. There was no way I was living to see the age of eighteen at this rate.

Ben made the seat go to the right distance away from the pedals and Cameron moved back over to his seat. The speed, if anything, went faster now that Ben was driving. Cameron started talking to him about something but I couldn’t pick it out.

Travis came into my line of view as he fumbled through the duffel bag at my feet before pulling out a large gun. He pushed himself out of the window so he was leaning out of it with his chest facing the car. Finn was doing the same, only Travis seemed to be sitting on the arm rest on the side of the door, not putting him out of the car as much as Finn, who was literally sitting on the window edge.

“Lacey!” Finn yelled. He slumped quickly back into the car. “Hold my legs for me.”

Without giving me a chance to say yes or no, and without second guessing the trust he put in the girl he kidnapped hours ago, he forced himself back out the window. I crawled over to where he was and held onto the top of his legs. I sat on my knees, putting them directly on his feet to try to put more weight on him to keep him from falling out of the car. 

“Next time, don’t make such a grand entrance,” Cameron yelled in the direction of where Travis’ body was. Cameron’s window was rolled down as well, but I don’t know how much he was actually doing since I felt like Finn was blocking most of his view with his body.

“Excuse me?” Travis shot back. I could barely hear him but he must have moved his head in slightly as he spoke. Otherwise, I think the wind and bullets would have carried his voice away.

“Let’s lay on the horn and tear up the roads as we come home to get everyone’s attention, what an idea!” Cameron scolded.

“Sorry, you’re going to have to yell louder if you want me to hear you over the squealing tires and bullets being shot at me,” Travis demanded.

Buy on Amazon Kindle | Paperback

About the Author

J.S. Christine has been writing novels since 2011 and graduated with a degree in Creative Writing. She strives to give readers worlds they can relax in with characters they can call their friends. Her novels typically travel down the obstacle-ridden roads of self-discovery with music blasting in the car’s speakers and the occasional explosion off to the side. Her first novel, Sparked, was self-published in 2016. When she isn’t writing, she can be found binge reading books, burning cookies, attempting to run, or teaching her three cats how great popcorn is.

Connect:

https://www.jschristine.com/

https://www.instagram.com/jscbooks/

https://twitter.com/JSCbooks

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15254232.J_S_Christine

Spotlight: The Empress and the English Doctor: How Catherine the Great Defied a Deadly Virus by Lucy Ward

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Within living memory, smallpox was a dreaded disease. Over human history it has killed untold millions. In the eighteenth century, as epidemics swept Europe, the first rumors emerged of an effective treatment: a mysterious method called inoculation.

But a key problem remained: convincing people to accept the preventative remedy, the forerunner of vaccination. Arguments raged over risks and benefits, and public resistance ran high. As smallpox ravaged her empire and threatened her court, Catherine the Great took the momentous decision to summon the Quaker physician Thomas Dimsdale from Hertford to St Petersburg to carry out a secret mission that would transform both their lives. 

Excerpt

At nine o’clock on a chill evening in October 1768, a carriage arrived at the gates of Wolff House, on the outskirts of St Petersburg, with an urgent summons. Aft er weeks of secret preparations, the call had come at last from the Winter Palace, where the Empress Catherine II waited impatiently for her English doctor, Thomas Dimsdale. 

Prepared but uneasy at the task ahead, Thomas climbed quickly into the coach with his son Nathaniel, a medical student. Nathaniel carried a sleeping child, a six-year-old boy named Alexander, small for his age and swaddled in a fur against the autumn cold and the beginnings of a fever.

Leaving the guarded gates of Wolff House, a merchant’s summer residence requisitioned as an isolation hospital, the trio sped through lanes lit by an almost full moon towards the river a short distance to the south. The wide, grey waters of the Neva were not yet frozen, and the coach crossed over a pontoon bridge, then made its way to the rear of the Winter Palace, away from the bustle of the embankment. Drawing up as agreed at a gate close to the grand facades of Millionnaya Street, the two doctors and the boy were ushered quickly up a back staircase. At the top waited Baron Alexander Cherkasov, the Cambridge-educated President of the St Petersburg Medical College, who would act as interpreter.

As they hurried through richly decorated passages to the appointed room, Thomas had reason for trepidation. Over decades of experience, the 56-year-old physician had refined the practice of smallpox inoculation: deliberately infecting patients with a small, controlled dose of the deadly virus itself to give them future immunity against the brutal disease. His landmark treatise explaining his methods, published just a year previously in 1767, was already in its fourth edition, its influence stretching across Europe and confirming England’s place as the global centre of expertise for the preventative treatment. 

Yet, despite his flawless record of thousands of successful inoculations, from wealthy aristocrats paying handsome sums to the poorest foundlings he immunised for free, Thomas knew the stakes were now at their highest. Not only did his own reputation hang in the balance, so too did that of the medical procedure he firmly believed could counter one of the greatest threats to human health ever known. If disaster struck – and his Russian test cases at Wolff House had produced disturbingly erratic results – the name of science itself would be tainted, to the benefit of prejudice and superstition. 

And if the fear for his profession was not enough, there was his safety and the impact on his country to consider. Back in Britain, King George III himself was following his progress, while diplomats in London and St Petersburg exchanged anxious updates and wished the whole politically hazardous affair swiftly over. In the English market town of Hertford, the family he had reluctantly left almost three months before prayed for his safe return. For Thomas, the danger was only underlined by the Empress’s promise – should things go wrong – of a carriage waiting to spirit him to the safety of a yacht anchored in the Gulf of Finland ready to sail for England. Her death at the hands of a foreigner would spark immediate vengeance: he had witnessed the sparkle of the Russian Court but also the dark brutality of life outside it. If he failed to escape immediately, he expected to pay with his life. 

All this preoccupied the mind of the Quaker doctor as he entered the small chamber where Her Imperial Majesty, the Empress Catherine II, waited alone, her mind settled and her countenance perfectly composed. Marvelling at her resolution, Thomas took out a mother-of-pearl and silver case no bigger than his palm and opened the hinged lid to reveal three pearl-handled blades slotted inside. Extracting one, he knelt beside the half-awake Alexander, exposing the boy’s arm to find the place he had inoculated him a few days previously. With the lancet, he pierced the blister, transferring a drop of the infected matter within on to the blade. The Empress pushed back her brocaded sleeves, and the Doctor made the smallest of punctures in her pale skin, one in each upper arm, guiding a drop of the fluid into each incision. 

In barely the time needed to throw a set of dice, the procedure was over. The Empress of Russia had been deliberately, and willingly, inoculated with smallpox: the ancient and terrible disease that had killed an estimated sixty million over centuries and disfigured and blinded countless more. Thomas’s record was impeccable, but every jab of the blade carried risk. Now, as Catherine retired to bed and the doctors and the boy stepped back into the cold St Petersburg night, there was nothing to do but wait.

Early in the morning aft er the secret appointment at the Winter Palace, Catherine travelled by carriage to Tsarskoe Selo, an elegant royal estate some twenty miles south of St Petersburg. There, wrapped up against the cold, she walked in landscaped parkland that stands barely changed today, pacing the tree-lined paths as late leaves scattered and were swept away. She dined simply that day on weak soup, boiled chicken and vegetables, sleeping for almost an hour afterwards and waking refreshed. 

The Empress’s mood, her doctor noted, was ‘easy and cheerful’, but during the night pain would build around the two incisions on her arms, her joints would begin to ache, and giddiness and fever would strike the following evening. The smallpox virus, one of the most virulent ever known, had entered her bloodstream and, as her body prepared to resist, there was no turning back.

Buy on Amazon Kindle | Audible | Hardcover | Bookshop.org

About the Author

Lucy Ward is a writer and former journalist for the Guardian and Independent. As a Westminster Lobby correspondent, she campaigned for greater women’s representation. From 2010–12, she lived with her family in Moscow, renewing her interest in Russian history. After growing up in Manchester, she studied Early and Middle English at Balliol College, Oxford. She now lives in Essex