Like a river, a book must start somewhere. Like a river, it sometimes has more than one source. Bleeding Heart Square had three. The sources didn’t appear at the same time but slowly and coyly. But I couldn’t start writing until they flowed together, mingling so quickly and thoroughly that I find it hard to know when and where one idea ends and the others begin.
One was the Moat Farm Murder of 1899, a real-life case with which my grandmother had a remote connection - I’ve blogged about this elsewhere.