As you probably know (due to my excessive whinging on about it) getting titles for the books has become increasingly difficult. DYING LIGHT took months of blood-from-a-stone style pain, BROKEN SKIN was even worse (especially as I had to go through the whole nightmarish exercise again for the American edition), and Book Number The Fourth has had me seriously contemplating fleeing the country, changing my name, and taking up mango farming. Or lemur wrangling, I haven't quite decided which yet.
However, sound bells and sodding trumpets, we finally have a title for the aforementioned volume of police-flavoured daring do! Yes, I can exclusively reveal* That Book Number The Fourth will be published as FLESH HOUSE. Which is apparently less offensive than my original suggestion. (What the hell's wrong with calling a novel, "Buy This Fucking Book You Bastards!"? honestly, marketing people...)
And the first two chapters are going to be stuffed into the back of the BROKEN SKIN paperback when it comes out on January the 7th.
Strangely that novella I've been hinting vaguely about was a one shot wonder, as far as the title was concerned: SAWBONES. A lot of fun to write and something a little different from my normal stuff. The only down side is that it's not going to be out till July 2008. Which is a bummer.
Other than that, She Who Must Attend Her Company's Annual Golf Outing is off getting boozed up in charge of a golf trolley this afternoon. I expect her home some time around midnight: staggering out of a taxi, clutching a bottle of champagne and singing rude songs in an mezzo-soprano / operatic stylie. Never one to say 'Green Cheese' I plan to have my own indulgent evening (once the day's editing is done**), only I can't actually think what that's going to entail. It's too short notice to get people out for a drink -- and I live in the middle of nowhere, so it's about at two hour lurch home from the pub. Especially when every other step goes in a random direction.
Any suggestions?
* But only because nobody else really cares enough to try and beat me to the scoop.
** He said, just in case anyone from HarperCollins is reading this -- you never know, they have their spies everywhere!
Labels: Flesh House, ramble