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When Lee Price, newly dead husband, was outed as a woman-beater in an online article by the Evening Star, Harvey Ramsgate suddenly found himself at the centre of a movement of women who were not only lauding his journalism skills but touting him as a feminist figure of justice. He had dared to call out an abuser who just happened to be deceased. Harvey had said that tragic death did not abstain him from being held to account and Harvey was placed on a pedestal for doing so.
Honestly, to have the man who managed the great Robert Jordan and (one of my favourite authors of all time) Iain Banks, praise my work, has been a huge boost. John said he could see the “imagination and intelligence” in the opening chapters of A Better Crown but couldn’t represent me because he didn’t love the book which is fair enough; he doesn’t want to market a book he doesn’t wholeheartedly adore and I wouldn’t want that either.
His blank eyes were two dark pools in a sallow, thin face, sunken cheeks pulling in around a toothless mouth. Decomposing flesh hung from every inch of visible flesh, the skin melted and smudged like hot wax across an aged candlestick. Long, silvery hair fell in thin strands across his shoulders and his brow was mounted by a crown made from rough Darkstone shards.