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Dear Bernard, This is simple fan mail and I suspect you must be overwhelmed by similar missives but I just felt moved to write. For some odd reason I've never read any of your books despite a lifelong love of history and historical novels. I bought Azincourt at the airport prior to a short holiday. Wow ! Best ripping yarn I've read for many years. I have a test for books; If you can smell where you are supposed to be then its a good one. Azincourt stank from the first page right to the end. Heroes with human flaws and a great story well told. Thank you. yours sincerely Jonathan Owen

Mr. Cornwell. Must say your books are marvelous. discovered your work just 3 months ago and have read the Arthur books and the Saxon stories so far. Reading Azincourt now and its just brilliant. Being from Norway I hope you will present us for some Norwegian vikings, hopefully from northern Norway in the Saxon stories ;)Your books have hit me in the hart. made me feel angry, happy and sad. please let me wait for another saxon story book in 2013;) Thomas

Hello Mr. Bernard, I had a geat laugh with the golf conversation in Sharpe's Waterloo. Just out loud in the middle of the night not minding my neighbours..hahaha! Great reading! Best regards.

Lucas

Dear Mr. Cornwell, I am twelve years old and love your saxon stories. My dad got me interested and I must have read your books a dozen times. I can't wait until the fifth book comes out. Thank you for writing these books, they are a masterpiece of literature and I hope you never stop writing them. your fan, Michael.

Hi Bernard, I just just booked my tickets to hear you at the Tank Museum in October. I am really looking forward to hearing you as I missed you in Winchester last year. Regards Steve Allan

dear Mr Cornwell, just wanted to say thank you for the books about Sharpe. I first started to read them after a car crash that left me in hospital for almost 2 years; as you can imagine it was very boring and your books allowed me to escape. I have seen the show on telly and all though they are very good, your books brought to life the Napoleonic period in a very real way. I wish you many years of good health and many more books as I am now a confirmed Bernard Cornwell fan. thanks, Brian

I have greatly enjoyed following Richard Sharpe over the years. I have now discovered the Grail Quest series and have enjoyed these even more. Please keep up the good work

George Reid

Dear Sir, I want to thank you for giving my son (now 19) the pleasure of reading good books. He started at ten with the Trilogy and never stopped. Once he told me he was reading Stonehenge late at night and suddenly he stood up in order to lower the sound afraid he would weak us up.He then realized the sound was in the story he was reading but so real. João Paulo, my son, is now studying Social Sciences at the University (PUC), second year of 4, and reading a lot is a must. He is used to read and this cause no problem because of his pleasure in reading. Calorosas saudações brasileiras. Professor Armando Freitas

I was a bit alarmed at what you allowed to happen to Hook. I still have my little finger alas bent from a tendon injury. I didn't realise the potential consequences until my operating surgeon explained. More follows. 'What would you lose if you didn't have a pinky finger? Often people consider the pinky (pinkie) as a decorative accessory of the hand. However, hand therapist will confirm that with losing your little finger you will lose about 50 percent of your hand strength. Interestingly, sometimes the pinky is used for making hand gestures. But more often the little finger is featured with abnormalities which appear to be related to certain problems in body and/or mind. For example, only recently a Dutch researcher revealed that a 'curved' pinky is often seen in the hands of people who have autism! The pinky, the humble fifth finger, is often considered as a bit of a decorative accessory: the little finger to crook daintily while sipping tea from a teacup. Compared with the other fingers the pinky doesn't carry the heavy burdens of the pointer, the index finger, which pokes things importantly and flicks through the Rolodex on urgent missions. The pinky also doesn't display your life's commitment with a belt of bright gold, as ring finger does. And the pinky doesn't, like the middle finger, succinctly communicate impudence or defiance.'

Ellie

Wicked, wicked man. Suffering as she does from chronic BBD (Busy Brain Disorder) and having a compulsion to solve any puzzle she sees, Aunt Susan was dismayed to run across the following yesterday: Take you out, put me in, and a horse appears in this happy person! It was no help at all that she does not wish to know the identity of Mr. Sharpes father; that she believes a key component in Mr. Sharpes claim to a place in the pantheon is his character as an orphan unencumbered by paternal legacy as an unexpected sport flowering sweetly at the back of the cosmic compost bin. She was helpless. She was lost. The universe must come to a screeching halt while she puzzled. She was also saddened to think that her rage for a solution must inevitably result in the destruction of something she loves. As it turned out, she need not have worried, and she forgives you the time that should have been spent doing the dishes. It could not be helped. Let me urge you, Sir, to resist any temptation and all entreaties to burden Mr. Sharpe unnecessarily. For one thing, it is one of the joys of your stories that you do not stretch your characters or their circumstances to the point of melodrama. Knowing what we already know about his mother, it seems unlikely that she or her customer would have had any notion as to her childs paternity. To produce a village explainer a long-remembering beggar or barmaid at this late date would draw a large bill on ones credulity, and to produce an aging Sharpe look-alike would be rather sad. For another, there are some questions that simply should not be answered (as the estate of Mrs. Mitchell should have known). For her part, Aunt Susan is perfectly content to love Sharpe as he is the result of the unremarkable congress between a whore and some gay and carefree rogue, perhaps a jolly tar or a plowboy. Encouraging you to remain resolute and, as ever, grateful for the pleasure you never fail to provide, I am yours etc., Aunt Susan P.S. Please do remember that we are still waiting for you to extract Sweet William from the wilderness and set him gently down on the Bridge of Angels.