What revealed the magic of books for me was The Wind in the Willows. When I was five, I contracted measles, which meant I had to spend my days in bed in a darkened room. My mother sat outside my bedro

IF there was one thing Glenda Williams had always been proud of, it was her organisational skills. At school, the other girls had always come to her for help when sorting out their revision timetables

‘If I gave up work, what would I do?’

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They’d have loved the drama of it – bowing out almost exactly ten years apart. Born in the same year and with the same initials, both queens of the bonkbuster. One was a Hollywood lioness, the other a

Growing up in rural North Yorkshire, I kept myself busy with paper and pen. ‘Writing stories again, Liz?’ my mum smiled in 1968 when I was 15, as I scribbled dialogue and plot twists, dreaming of beco