![]() ![]() ![]() At nine years old, I’d walked among the stones and got my first taste of the things Sutcliff wrote about: the Seal people, the priests of the Horned Moon god, the mysteries behind the goat-skin door that we never got to see in her world of Roman senators and straight roads and the honour of the Eagle. I’d read Rosemary Sutcliff’s Eagle of the Ninth as a child, around the time my Dad took my brother and I to visit the Brochs at Glenelg in Scotland. I had a career as a thriller writer, but the Boudica books were sitting there, in the back of my mind, waiting to be written. Email was on dial up, and we waited until midnight to dial in because the lines were engaged during the day. There were no electronic versions then, no Facebook, no Twitter. ![]() June 2015 marked fifteen years since Dreaming the Eagle was first published. ![]()
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