In January 1937, Elizabeth, a young English girl decides to remain in Spain when the rest of her family return to the peace of England. Alone in the devastated city of Málaga she makes friends with two young men, Juan, an idealistic Spaniard and Alex, a pragmatic Englishman. Together they make their escape from the war-torn city along the coast to Almeria. Amongst the death and carnage she falls in love with Juan, only to lose him shortly afterwards when he is badly wounded. Believing he is dead she returns to England with Alex, whom she later marries.
Seventy years later Kate, Elizabeth´s granddaughter, is left a legacy following the death of her grandfather, a legacy that opens a Pandora´s box of secrets and lies which Kate can only unravel by returning to Spain.
Genre: FICTION / HistoricalSpanish Lavender has been consistently the best selling of my books since it was published in 2011 by Vanguard Press under the title of Between the Sierra and the Sea. In 2013 I changed the title to Spanish Lavender and self-published it myself, after which sales steadily increased. Its current ranking on Amazon is #841 in Kindle Store > Books > Literature & Fiction > Literary Fiction > Historical.
Its potential sales if it were translated into Spanish would be greatly increased.
As dawn broke Elizabeth looked around her in amazement; she had been aware for some time that they were not alone on this road but she had not realised that they were part of such an exodus. As far as she could see in both directions, there were people, hundreds of people walking in the same direction: wounded men, women, children, old people, goats, donkeys, even some chickens in a crate. The entire city seemed to be on the move. An immense silence hung over them, broken only by the plaintive cries of the children begging for food and the curses and moans of the elderly, who struggled to keep up. There was no need for them to speak; there was nothing to say. They all knew that they had to walk as fast as they could to avoid the danger. If they dawdled they would die; this was a race for their lives and even the youngest among them seemed to know it. They urged their crying children on and when someone’s grandmother gave up and sat by the roadside, too exhausted to continue, they walked on without her. They had to reach Almería and safety at all costs.
‘Que desbandá,’ Juan murmured, visibly moved to see so many homeless people.
Elizabeth wondered how far these people had come; some were wrapped in coats and blankets, others had nothing more than a single garment to wear; some were barefoot, their feet torn and bleeding. One old woman sat by the roadside, weeping, her legs swollen with ulcers, the blood running down into her sandals. There were so many children, dozens and dozens of children, most of them under ten years old. Some were lucky and sat in baskets astride rheumatic-looking donkeys, others rode on their fathers’ backs or lay in their mothers’ arms but many more ran behind, their tiny legs trying to keep up with their families, terrified
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French
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Already translated.
Translated by SeyedJamal Mousavishirazi
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Author review: Excellent translation. Seyedjamal was easy to communicate with and very precise in his timekeeping and the quality of his work |
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Portuguese
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Already translated.
Translated by Evelyn T M Martins
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Author review: Excellent translation and on time. |
