KAREN CHARLTON
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    • The Mystery of Mad Alice Lane
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    • The Heiress of Linn Hagh
    • The Sans Pareil Mystery
    • The Sculthorpe Murder
    • Plauge Pits & River Bones
    • Murder on Park Lane
    • The Willow Marsh Murder
  • Detective Lavender Short Stories
    • Death At The Frost Fair
    • The Death of Irish Nell
    • The Piccadilly Pickpocket
    • The Mystery of the Skelton Diamonds
  • Catching the Eagle & February 1909
    • Catching the Eagle
    • February 1809
  • Seeking Our Eagle
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    • James Charlton Senior (1700-1770)
    • John Charlton (1746-1818)
    • 'Pious John' Charlton (1769-)
    • James 'Jamie' Charlton (1774- )
    • The mysterious William Charlton
    • The Family Tree: Ten generations
Welcome to the official website of historical novelist KAREN CHARLTON

News: New Book Covers

1/4/2018

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New Book Covers

My debut novel Catching the Eagle and it's prequel, February 1809, have both had a makeover.
Two hundred years after his death, our family rogue, Jamie Charlton, has never looked so good.
Many thanks to my talented cover designer, Lisa Horton for these brilliant image. Lisa designs the book covers for the Detective Lavender Mystery Series (published by Thomas & Mercer) and I have asked her to upgrade the covers of all my self-published novels.
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BBC RADIO INTERVIEW

14/1/2017

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The Real Stephen Lavender

Today I was interviewed about my recent contact with the living descendants of Stephen Lavender and what I've learned about the real Bow Street officer.
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Article: The Real Stephen Lavender

13/1/2017

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THE REAL STEPHEN LAVENDER

(TRUTH IS STRANGER THAN FICTION)

Thanks to the wonders of the World Wide Web, there is always a risk when you use real-life characters from history in your fiction that someone, or something, will pop up out of the ether and surprise you.
Real-life people, like my Detective Stephen Lavender, have children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. And I knew that if Lavender's descendants ever decided to research their ancestor on the Internet, the chances of them stumbling across my novels was high. This thought actually made me a little nervous because although I’ve used Lavender’s name and two of his real cases in my novels, I knew hardly anything at all about the man himself. I used a lot of artistic license and imagination to flesh out the details of his personality and family life. 

I focused on information I gleaned from reference books and contemporary newspaper articles about his work as a Principal Officer with Bow Street Police Office and just made up the rest. I didn’t even know how old the real Stephen Lavender was when he went up to Northumberland to solve the mystery of the stolen rent money from Kirkley Hall in Ponteland. And when I introduced this hired private detective to my readers in Catching the Eagle I made him a mature thirty-year-old man.
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Kirkley Hall, Ponteland, Northumberland
I’d often wondered if any of Lavender’s descendants were still living and if so, what they would make of my fictional representation of their ancestor? Would they like him and approve of the bookish, educated and slightly-introverted character I’d created? Or would I be facing a court case for defamation of character? As a cheeky, writer friend once pointed out, “the phrase ‘loosely based-upon’ can be very useful in times like these, Karen.”
I finally got my answer in December 2016 when I was contacted by several of Stephen Lavender’s descendants. Thankfully, the first message that landed in my inbox from Australian, Richard Kinch, began with the words:
'Thank you for making my ancestor famous!’ 
Richard’s delight with novels about his ancestor clearly out-weighed any concerns he had about historical inaccuracies. 
The contact from Richard was quickly followed by more messages from other Lavender relatives including Lesley Morgan, another Aussie descendant. In fact, it turns out that Australia is teeming with Stephen Lavender’s relatives. He had nine children. Two of his sons, and one daughter, emigrated to Australia in the 1850s. There are Facebook pages and online groups all over the southern hemisphere dedicated to connecting the Lavender relatives and exploring their genealogy.
Lesley, in particular, was incredibly helpful and informative. She told me about the real-life background to my character and explained the family history to me. She also put me in touch with a British relative, Alister Palmer, who lives in Bristol. We exchanged many emails and a fascinating picture of the real man began to emerge.

I already knew from my research, that several other members of Stephen Lavender’s family worked for Bow Street Police Office in the early nineteenth century but I didn't know that his father, Edward, was a clerk there. In my novels I've given him a father called John and a Church of England vicar for a maternal grandfather.  Also in my fictional character's background is a Grammar School education and an unhappy year spent at Cambridge University studying law. From Lesley I learnt that after starting an apprenticeship in 1803 with the horse patrol, Stephen was created a Principal Officer in 1807. 
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Bow Street Magisgrates' Court & Police Office
But the biggest surprise was that the real Lavender wasn’t born until 1789. This means that he became a Principal Officer at the tender age of eighteen and was barely twenty when he was sent up to Northumberland to solve the mystery of the Kirkley Hall robbery. I know his investigation in this instance was meticulous and thorough – I’ve seen the court case documents at The National Archives in London – so he must have been a real child prodigy in the Regency world of policing. I wonder what thirty-seven-year-old Jamie Charlton, whom Lavender accused of the Kirkley Hall robbery, made of the situation when he was arrested and charged by a young man who was barely shaving?
I’ve always known that the London newspapers adored Stephen Lavender and zealously – and sometimes inaccurately – reported his cases and forays into the seedy underbelly of the crime-ridden capital. In 1818, Lavender solved the mystery of the vicious attack on an elderly man, William Sculthorpe in Northamptonshire (the basis for my novel, ‘The Sculthorpe Murder’) and this case was extensive reported by the London press. I wonder if his fresh-faced youth helped to make him so popular with the newspapers of the time?
Lavender, and his young family, left Bow Street in 1821 when he took up the position of Deputy Chief Constable in the industrial northern city of Manchester. Sadly, he died there in June 1833 at the relatively young age of forty-four. I’ve found his obituary written in over thirty British newspapers. He really was a celebrity in nineteenth century England.
So, what happens now?  I hear my readers ask. Will you chop a decade off Lavender’s age, remove his fictional education and his gorgeous and exotic Spanish wife in order to bring the fictional character back into line with the real man?
No. I intend to carry on as before, ‘loosely basing’ my detective on the life of the real man and occasionally dipping into the archives to find more of Stephen Lavender’s cases to flesh out into an intricate plot. I hope to continue to share information with Lesley Morgan and Alister Palmer for the benefit of all of us who are interested in this fascinating man.
And anyway, I’m not sure that my mystery-reading public is ready for a detective barely out of his teens.
 
In this instance alone, the truth is definitely stranger than fiction.

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News: Rothbury Literary Evening

26/4/2016

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Review: 'Holy Island' by L. J. Ross

2/3/2016

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Fast Pace and Powerful Prose

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I really liked L.J.Ross’ crime thriller, ‘Holy Island.’ I know Lindisfarne well and thoroughly enjoyed being taken back to its rugged isolation by the author. However, I’ll never look at the locals in the same way again after reading this book!  

D.C.I. Ryan and Dr. Anna Taylor are strong and attractive characters (although I felt Anna could have played a bigger role in the investigation.)

My only other complaint is all the unnecessary head-hoping from one character's point of view to another which I found disconcerting at times. The romantic scenes didn’t detract from the power of this thriller. L.J. keeps the pace moving and the story powers towards the dramatic finale.  

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News: Audiobook update

6/4/2015

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My Audiobook Narrator: 
Michael Page

PictureMichael Page
I am delighted to announce that this week, Michael Page, an award-winning narrator, will begin work on the audiobook of The Heiress of Linn Hagh. I have heard a sample of Michael reading the novel and I loved his voice; his ability to age it for older characters and - most importantly - his wonderful Northumbrian accent. Apart from the awards Michael has won, which I have listed below in his biography, he has also narrated several Ian Rankin 'Rebus' novels. I'm thrilled to have such a prestigious narrator and never dreamt that signing with Thomas and Mercer would move me into this league.  I am so looking forward to the publication of The Heiress of Linn Hagh on June 9th.

Michael Page has been recording audiobooks since 1984 and has over two hundred titles to his credit. He has won several AudioFile Earphones Awards, including for The War That Killed Achilles by Caroline Alexander and The Lies of Locke Lamora by Scott Lynch. As a professional actor, Michael has performed regularly since 1998 with the Peterborough Players in Peterborough, New Hampshire. He is currently a professor of theater at Calvin College in Grand Rapids, Michigan, where he lives with his wife, Jane, and two daughters, Camilla and Chloe (when they are not away at college). He has a particular interest in Shakespeare and Eastern European theater and travels frequently to Hungary and Romania.
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Travel:  Northumberland and Edinburgh

27/2/2013

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Adventures of a wandering author...

I rarely travel away these days and usually I’m not allowed out on my own (for reasons which will soon become obvious) but I have just returned from a short trip 'oop north' to see my friend, Babs, in deepest, darkest Northumberland and another friend, Jill, in Edinburgh.  

My journey to ‘the village with no bus’ in rural Coquetdale proved relatively uneventful.  I wound my way carefully down the remote wooded valleys, catching glimpses through the trees of the surrounding snow-topped hills which resembled fat iced buns, I followed the diversion signs to circumnavigate the landslip and managed to avoid the humungous pothole which rent the road in two. 

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A kune kune pig
I always approach the junction where the petting farm spills out into the lane with extreme caution.  This time I merely had to stop to let a glossy-feathered cockerel strut across the road.  Yes, an entire pack of alpacas watched me over the crumbling stone wall and a couple of kune kune piglets snuffled in the muddy verge, but thankfully there was no sign of the wild goat herd and I didn’t hit anything with a pulse.   

Fortunately, nothing hit me either.  I was a little alarmed to see on the TV news that both the French and the British armies were involved in a major artillery bombardment exercise on the Otterburn ranges to coincide with my visit.  Thankfully, I can report that their missiles were all on target on Friday. However, the vast number of potholes which pepper those Northumbrian lanes suggest that this hasn’t always been the case.


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Edinburgh in the snow
Unfortunately, I had a few problems later in Edinburgh when my sat nav repeatedly tried to take me down a road that was dug up to accommodate the expanding tram network.  Round and round the city centre I went – and kept coming back to the same spot. I eventually made it to Jill’s new flat (two hours late) but not before I had spent ten minutes at number 25 trying to persuade a man to let me in.  I later realised that I had misread the address and I should have been at number 27.  (Ooops.)

Jill and her partner spoilt me rotten and the magnificent city of Edinburgh gleamed with sunlight all day on Saturday. Apart from snapping off their toilet door handle, and mistaking Jill’s cat for a cushion and trying to prop it up on the back of the sofa, the weekend was relatively uneventful.  

And, yes…my next trip will be to specsavers… 


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