Four Bretwalda Authors on the Shortlist for Prestigious IEA Brexit Prize

Four Bretwalda Authors on the Shortlist
for Prestigious IEA Brexit Prize

Bretwalda Books is delighted to announce that three of its authors have made it through a tough selection to get on to the short list.

The winner of the €100,000 prize, run by The Institute of Economic Affairs (IEA), will be announced in February for the best plan to leave the EU and create a more prosperous and free United Kingdom. 

Submissions were invited from individuals, groups of individuals, academia and corporate bodies such as consultancy firms, law firms, accounting firms, think-tanks and investment banks. The competition's judging panel, Chaired by The Rt. Hon Lord Lawson of Blaby, former Chancellor of the Exchequer, chose the 20 best submissions for the final round.

Rupert Matthews, Editorial Director of Bretwalda Books, commented:

"We are delighted that of the 20 shortlist submissions from around the world, no less than four are by Bretwalda Books authors. This is the most high profile award for political writing that will be announced in 2014 and we are proud to have such a high proportion of shortlisted contestants working for us."

“Our authors are:

“Rory Broomfield, who is Deputy Director of The Freedom Association and Director of the Better Off Out campaign. Rory has worked for a number of prominent Conservative Members of Parliament and small businesses.

“Dr Richard North is a political researcher and analyst, blogger and author. He is a former local government official, and came through trade politics to work for Westminster MPs, then spending four years working in the European Parliament.

“Robert Oulds is Director of the Bruges Group. Since 2002 he has also served his community as a local government councillor in a London borough.

“David Campbell Bannerman is Conservative MEP for the East of England. He was first elected to the European Parliament in June 2009. During the Irish Peace Process, David served as Special Adviser to Sir Patrick Mayhew, then Secretary of State for Northern Ireland.”

ENDS

Notes for editors

1 - For more information about the Brexit Prize, visit www.iea.org.uk/brexit

2 - Editorial Director Rupert Matthews is available to interview by phone on 01737 356197 or on 07721 455944.

3 - The Judging Panel are:

·       Nigel Lawson (Chairman), The Rt Hon Lord Lawson of Blaby, former Chancellor of the Exchequer

·       David Starkey, British constitutional historian and a Fellow of the Society of Antiquaries of London

·       Prof. Philip Booth (Facilitator), Institute of Economic Affairs and Cass Business School

·       Roger Bootle, founder of Capital Economics, a Specialist Adviser to the House of Commons Treasury Committee and an Honorary Fellow of the Institute of Actuaries

·       Tim Frost, a governor of the LSE and director of Markit and Cairn Capital

·       Gisela Stuart, MP for Birmingham Edgbaston and editor of The House Magazine

·       Prof. Martin Ricketts, Professor of Economic Organisation at the University of Buckingham

·       Ruth Lea, Non-Executive Director of the Arbuthnot Banking Group

·       Dr. Stephen Davies, Institute of Economic Affairs

Spoils of War - Leopardkill

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A rising wind chilled the mounted hussars as they prepared to leave Rueda; a wind off the mountains, driving rainclouds across a leaden sky and tugging at men’s cloaks, goading horses taut with nerves to prance in anticipation.

Lock heaved the last bale of cotton back up onto his borrowed wagon. Already tired from a half-day’s work the mules had no opportunity to eat. There were no spare draught animals so they must simply carry on. Lock gave them water, ignoring orders from the lieutenant charged with looking after the convoy to get moving immediately. He almost lost his temper with the idiot, but Killen was there to smooth things over.

“What is the matter with you today?” Killen demanded after the subaltern was out of earshot.

“I don’t know, John. Maybe what that French lieutenant said came as a shock. And I’m angry with myself for losing Michelot.”

“You cannot blame yourself for that,” Killen said, “and in any case, now we have definite news for Sir John.”

“We do?”

“Lieutenant Tirenne told you Michelot had gone on to meet Bonaparte.”

“...who is in Madrid.”

“Exactly. It confirms all we have heard so far.”

“Eh? What’s that about Madrid?” Colonel Jones had crept up on the two men unseen. “Yes by God,” he said when Killen explained, “Sir John must be told. The Ogre himself, eh? Well, gentlemen - time to move. Let’s not keep the good general waiting.”

“We are taking the wagons with us?” Killen asked.

“Spoils of war, captain; spoils of war.”

“But surely, sir, they belong to the Spanish.”

“The French would have stolen them if we’d not arrived,” Jones said, “Our good fortune. Decent prize money for the regiment from that little lot, I shouldn’t wonder.”

from "Leopardkill" by Jonathan Hopkins

Buy your copy at Amazon or a bookshop.

Product Description

A thrilling war novel set against the dramatic backdrop of the Peninsular War that saw a small British force pitched against Napoleon’s Grande Armee.

It is Autumn 1808. The French army is gone from Portugal...except for one man. And what he has stolen is deadly secret.

Sergeant Joshua Lock and Captain the Honourable John Killen pursue the spy deep into Spain ahead of Sir John Moore’s British army - a force now ordered to fight the French alongside native troops. But instead of helping their new allies, the Spaniards seem to have turned against them.

Their quarry still free, Killen’s discovery of Lock’s affair with a fellow officer’s wife drives the childhood friends apart as savage winter storms grip the Galician mountains. With discipline breaking down, and Spain’s armies in disarray, every man must decide for himself - who is friend and who is foe? Should the outnumbered, starving British stand and fight, or run for the sea, and home?

Whilst unbeknown to the bickering allies, Bonaparte himself is storming through Spain with but a single purpose...to destroy every ‘mangy English leopard.’

Meticulously researched to be historically and militarily accurate, this dashing novel of cavalrymen at war is written by an expert horseman.


About the Author
Jonathan Hopkins has worked in occupations as diverse as bulk tanker loader and kitchen designer, but since 2001 has fitted and repaired saddles professionally.
A lifelong horse-keeper and long term chair of an affiliated riding club close to his home in South Wales, his interest in the cavalrymen who served under the Duke of Wellington originally grew out of research into saddlery worn by troop horses, for which there are no surviving patterns.
Leopardkill is his second published novel.

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Leopardkill-Cavalry-Tale-Jonathan-Hopkins-ebook/dp/B00EAX49OG/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1382516316&sr=8-1&keywords=leopardkill

Napoleon Leads the Way - Leopardkill

Thickening snowdrifts threatened to block the narrow mountain pass. With scarf pulled up to cover nose and mouth, eyes slitted against the blizzard, Tirenne watched the leading horseman turn back again. The dragoon leaned his face so close to Michelot’s the lieutenant could not hear what he yelled in his colonel’s ear.

For the third time that hour horses refused to go forward in the face of a horizontal ice-storm. Tirenne had never experienced such ferocity. The weather battered everything in its path with flesh-scoring venom.

Michelot beckoned Tirenne forward. The lieutenant kicked hard at his mount’s sides simply to get the reluctant animal to crab sideways. He tugged down his scarf and gale-whipped snow stung his cheeks like a thousand needles, the air cold enough to freeze the breath in his lungs

“Go to the Emperor!” Michelot tried to shout the wind down, “Tell him we must halt!”

Tirenne's horse was more comfortable with its backside to the storm but the sting only encouraged the animal to hurry, not something he relished on so treacherous a road. He reached and passed the leading infantry companies, a mass of greatcoats and tall shakos powdered white. Hunched forward into the wind as they struggled uphill, only with great reluctance did men move to let him pass, buffeting and baulking the horse as Tirenne threaded slowly through the throng.

Bonaparte was barely recognisable under a frosted cloak and unimpressed at Tirenne's request. “There will be time to rest when we are across the mountains. Follow me, lieutenant.”

The Emperor hustled his horse towards the head of the column, drawing grumbles and curses from men forced aside. He must know the difficulties infantry faced in such weather, Tirenne thought, but Bonaparte showed no sympathy for their plight. Only when he reached the front ranks did the Emperor rein in his horse to dismount, and only then because the leading files were halted in their tracks by the storm’s violence.

“You there,” Bonaparte pointed at the man most exposed to the elements on the extreme right of the line, “what is your name?”

“Lefebvre, your majesty.”

“Lefebvre, you will take my horse, and the lieutenant’s, to the rear. And do not lose them.”

Tirenne dismounted, handing his reins to the shivering infantryman who looked delighted with his good fortune. The Emperor walked stiffly along the line of tall, haggard-faced grenadiers, hands clasped behind his back, now and again staring into a face as if searching for inspiration. Reaching the last man he turned and began to walk back then stopped. Bonaparte pushed through the first two ranks until he stood in front of a sergeant in the third. “Sergeant Lamartin, is it not?”

The sergeant stood ramrod-straight, “Yes, your majesty.”

“You were with me at Austerlitz.”

“I...I was, your majesty.” Lamartin sounded as if he could not quite believe the Emperor had singled him out.

Bonaparte nodded sagely, “A hard won victory: we lost many friends, that day. I call upon you again, sergeant,” he confided. “We must march swiftly if we are to catch the English. These roads are the worst I have ever seen, worse even than when we crossed the Alps. I cannot lead alone.” The Emperor looked deep into the sergeant’s eyes, “Will you help me?”

To Tirenne it seemed as if Lamartin grew several inches in height. Icicles clinging to the sergeant’s moustache cracked as he beamed with pleasure, “Until I draw my last breath, your majesty.”

The Emperor nodded. He had expected no less, Tirenne realised.

“With me, sergeant.” Bonaparte pushed his way back to the front of the column. “Lieutenant,” he commanded Tirenne, “take my right arm: Sergeant Lamartin - my left.” He twisted awkwardly to address men in the front rank. “The rest of you, join us,” he ordered, “link arms!”

They shuffled awkwardly through the snow until twelve men stood across the width of the road. “Now we will make a path for the whole army,” Bonaparte ordered. “En avant...forward - march!”

Taking small steps the line strode forward defiantly, each man lifting his knees high to stamp down the snow with boots almost worn through from marching. Those behind followed suit, rank after rank of tired men struggling under the weight of packs and weapons. But their Emperor was leading and they would follow him to the very gates of hell.

 from "Leopardkill" by Jonathan Hopkins

Buy your copy at Amazon or a bookshop

Product Description

A thrilling war novel set against the dramatic backdrop of the Peninsular War that saw a small British force pitched against Napoleon’s Grande Armee.

It is Autumn 1808. The French army is gone from Portugal...except for one man. And what he has stolen is deadly secret.

Sergeant Joshua Lock and Captain the Honourable John Killen pursue the spy deep into Spain ahead of Sir John Moore’s British army - a force now ordered to fight the French alongside native troops. But instead of helping their new allies, the Spaniards seem to have turned against them.

Their quarry still free, Killen’s discovery of Lock’s affair with a fellow officer’s wife drives the childhood friends apart as savage winter storms grip the Galician mountains. With discipline breaking down, and Spain’s armies in disarray, every man must decide for himself - who is friend and who is foe? Should the outnumbered, starving British stand and fight, or run for the sea, and home?

Whilst unbeknown to the bickering allies, Bonaparte himself is storming through Spain with but a single purpose...to destroy every ‘mangy English leopard.’

Meticulously researched to be historically and militarily accurate, this dashing novel of cavalrymen at war is written by an expert horseman.


About the Author
Jonathan Hopkins has worked in occupations as diverse as bulk tanker loader and kitchen designer, but since 2001 has fitted and repaired saddles professionally.
A lifelong horse-keeper and long term chair of an affiliated riding club close to his home in South Wales, his interest in the cavalrymen who served under the Duke of Wellington originally grew out of research into saddlery worn by troop horses, for which there are no surviving patterns.
Leopardkill is his second published novel.

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Leopardkill-Cavalry-Tale-Jonathan-Hopkins-ebook/dp/B00EAX49OG/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1382516316&sr=8-1&keywords=leopardkill

The Hussars Charge - Leopardkill

“Fifteenth! Draw…swords!”

The column slowed to a walk as the order was shouted down the line by officers; repeated by sergeants and corporals. With no time for parade-ground niceties sabres were dragged roughly from scabbards, each hussar caring only he did not accidentally strike the man or horse alongside. A trumpet call blared, shrill notes goading Killen’s racing heart.

“Left…wheel!”

Each man turned his horse toward the enemy. With a jolt Killen realised they might be overwhelmed. So many horsemen faced them the French brigade would overlap their thin line to curl around behind him. Three horses to Killen’s right Lock confirmed his thoughts, “Your friend’s done us no bloody favours.”

Killen licked dry lips. He would likely find an enemy each side of him rather than simply in front. Two swords against his one; perhaps more.

“Trot - march!”

Now there was no way back. Horses plunged forward as they accelerated with riders straining for control. Sergeants and subalterns yelled at men to hold their dressing. Killen tugged his leather sword knot with the thumb and forefinger of his rein hand, pulling the strap tighter around his wrist.

“’Ware carbines!” Lock shouted a warning. How he saw the French cavalry raise their weapons when the enemy were still only a dark mass Killen had no idea. In any case, such knowledge could do the hussars no good: they were already committed.

“Gallop - march!”

The Tempest lurched forward. Killen should have anticipated the horse, for he knew very well animals learned spoken commands as easily as men. A rill of smoke spread along the French line. Musket balls buzzed past his head, but whether any man was struck he had no time to worry. The French fired early, desperate to discard now useless weapons and draw swords. Shrill trumpet notes screamed out the charge, and as sabre points dropped forward a roar went up from three hundred throats - a cry of old victories remembered.

The hussars smashed into a solid wall of French horsemen and tore it apart.

Killen hacked at the dragoon on his right. The man cried out but there was no time to turn and press home the attack. He swung his sabre back over The Tempest’s neck to parry a thrust from his left. A horse went down close by with a sickening crash, legs flailing in the snow. And another line of Frenchmen waited behind the first!

from "Leopardkill" by Jonathan Hopkins

Buy your copy at Amazon or in a bookshop

Product Description

A thrilling war novel set against the dramatic backdrop of the Peninsular War that saw a small British force pitched against Napoleon’s Grande Armee.

It is Autumn 1808. The French army is gone from Portugal...except for one man. And what he has stolen is deadly secret.

Sergeant Joshua Lock and Captain the Honourable John Killen pursue the spy deep into Spain ahead of Sir John Moore’s British army - a force now ordered to fight the French alongside native troops. But instead of helping their new allies, the Spaniards seem to have turned against them.

Their quarry still free, Killen’s discovery of Lock’s affair with a fellow officer’s wife drives the childhood friends apart as savage winter storms grip the Galician mountains. With discipline breaking down, and Spain’s armies in disarray, every man must decide for himself - who is friend and who is foe? Should the outnumbered, starving British stand and fight, or run for the sea, and home?

Whilst unbeknown to the bickering allies, Bonaparte himself is storming through Spain with but a single purpose...to destroy every ‘mangy English leopard.’

Meticulously researched to be historically and militarily accurate, this dashing novel of cavalrymen at war is written by an expert horseman.


About the Author
Jonathan Hopkins has worked in occupations as diverse as bulk tanker loader and kitchen designer, but since 2001 has fitted and repaired saddles professionally.
A lifelong horse-keeper and long term chair of an affiliated riding club close to his home in South Wales, his interest in the cavalrymen who served under the Duke of Wellington originally grew out of research into saddlery worn by troop horses, for which there are no surviving patterns.
Leopardkill is his second published novel.

The Further Letters from Britain of Paddy Panda

Buy your copy HERE

Product Description

Letters explaining English as it is spoken in England, how to behave correctly in England, knowledge you will need when visiting or working in England - or even just speaking to English people. A “value-added” concept in English as a foreign language.

Paddy Panda is a cuddly toy living in England with his owner John Smith. He has never been to China, but longs to know more about that land because that is where Pandas come from. Meanwhile by listening to John Smith and his family and teenage friends, Paddy is learning all he can about England - or as he soon learns - Britain.
Paddy has written a series of letters explaining what he has learned and is learning about life in England. He hopes the letters will help students learning English or visiting England.

Paddy strives to be grammatically correct and usually is, but he also writes in colloquial English as spoken in polite society of course. Knowing some colloquial English will be very useful to students of English when they speak to actual English people.

Thus by reading Paddy Panda’s letters you will start to learn what you need to know when visiting England taking a trip to London or speaking with English people on business or on holiday.
Paddy also explains a bit about British history and British culture as it is viewed by British people.

Whether you work in a hotel used by British people, go to Britain on holiday or do business with British companies, Paddy Panda is for you.

And they are quite fun stories as well! Like English people, Paddy does like a laugh.


About the Author
Barbara Hayes worked on the editorial staff and spent many years writing stories and picture strip scripts for the Amalgamated Press, later Fleetway Publications and subsequently part of the Daily Mirror IPC publishing group.
Over the years she has had some 80 books and about 7300 scripts published by companies from England to Australia to South Africa to Florida and back to Holland.
She knows all about correct written English, colloquial English and grammar. She is also a fount of knowledge on polite behaviour and how to behave properly.

Contents
Introduction
The Ninth Letter from Paddy Panda - About the English
The Tenth Letter from Paddy Panda - About Pantomimes
The Eleventh Letter from Paddy Panda - About the Silk Road
The Twelfth Letter from Paddy Panda - About London
The Thirteenth Letter from Paddy Panda - About Sir Francis Drake
The Fourteenth Letter from Paddy Panda - About the British Empire
The Fifteenth Letter from Paddy Panda - About Pubs

Revenge - Leopardkill

“I need,” Lock said, “a firelock.” He looked at Carter, “How about yours?”

With the mule’s leadrope in one hand, the boy clutched his rifle protectively to his chest. Llewellyn grunted, gesticulating, but Carter refused to budge.

“What for?” the sergeant demanded, coming to the boy’s aid.

Lock stabbed a forefinger towards the oncoming cavalry, “Because I owe that bastard,” he said savagely.

Llewellyn grabbed the sergeant’s shoulder to attract his attention. As the greenjacket looked up he pointed again, “Very well - if you say so, Meurig.” He sounded doubtful but turned to the boy, “Give him your rifle, Private Carter.”

Carter looked mortified, “But, sergeant...”

“Hand it over.”

Reluctantly the boy held out his rifle. “You’ll get it back,” Lock promised, “soon as it’s over. Loaded?”

Carter gave a look to smelt iron, “Think I’m stupid or something?”

 Lock nodded. He stepped away from the group and out into the open. Hefting the weapon he felt its weight: gauged the balance point, smooth stock comfortable in his hands.

“Sarge!”  The cavalry were trotting.

“Fix swords!” the sergeant yelled at his men.

Riflemen obediently drew their long, razor-sharp bayonets. Lock heard the metallic clicking as they were slotted into place and watched Carter lead his charges into the rocks, threading a gap between boulders to a path that must lead uphill. He sighted down the rifle’s brown barrel. The small movement hurt his ribs.

“Fire when ready!” the sergeant called.

“On me!” Lock shouted back. “And the officer riding out front is mine!”

“You can’t give orders.”

“On me!” Lock repeated grimly. If greenjackets started popping off as soon as any Frenchman was in range the squadron might scatter, leaving him little chance of an accurate shot.

“Wait for this bloody dragoon!” the sergeant finally agreed in an exasperated tone. “Just make sure you don’t leave it too long,” he warned Lock.

from "Leopardkill" by Jonathan Hopkins

Buy your copy on Amazon or at a bookshop

Product Description

A thrilling war novel set against the dramatic backdrop of the Peninsular War that saw a small British force pitched against Napoleon’s Grande Armee.

It is Autumn 1808. The French army is gone from Portugal...except for one man. And what he has stolen is deadly secret.

Sergeant Joshua Lock and Captain the Honourable John Killen pursue the spy deep into Spain ahead of Sir John Moore’s British army - a force now ordered to fight the French alongside native troops. But instead of helping their new allies, the Spaniards seem to have turned against them.

Their quarry still free, Killen’s discovery of Lock’s affair with a fellow officer’s wife drives the childhood friends apart as savage winter storms grip the Galician mountains. With discipline breaking down, and Spain’s armies in disarray, every man must decide for himself - who is friend and who is foe? Should the outnumbered, starving British stand and fight, or run for the sea, and home?

Whilst unbeknown to the bickering allies, Bonaparte himself is storming through Spain with but a single purpose...to destroy every ‘mangy English leopard.’

Meticulously researched to be historically and militarily accurate, this dashing novel of cavalrymen at war is written by an expert horseman.


About the Author
Jonathan Hopkins has worked in occupations as diverse as bulk tanker loader and kitchen designer, but since 2001 has fitted and repaired saddles professionally.
A lifelong horse-keeper and long term chair of an affiliated riding club close to his home in South Wales, his interest in the cavalrymen who served under the Duke of Wellington originally grew out of research into saddlery worn by troop horses, for which there are no surviving patterns.
Leopardkill is his second published novel.

Encounter on a road - Leopardkill

Tirenne dismounted, looking from one man to the other. “Sergeant Lock.” he said at last. “And you are?”

The sergeant gave Lock a wide-eyed glance, “Daniels, your honour.”

Tirenne inclined his head in acknowledgement, “Sergeant Daniels, I must speak with your officer.”

“Er,” Daniels muttered, “Lieutenant Oakes is up the hill somewhere, sir. Won’t I do?”

“Strictly speaking, no.”

“What Lieutenant Tirenne is trying to say, Daniels,” Lock said, “is you don’t have enough clout.”

Tirenne gave a sigh. “Sergeant Lock and I are old...acquaintances,” he explained to the bewildered Daniels. “What he means is that it is simply a matter of protocol.”

Daniels went away grumbling. Tirenne followed Lock to where Michelot’s body lay, scarlet stain spread across the centre of his chest, and stared impassively at his dead commander.

“He was utterly determined you should die.”

“Serve him right for bashing me over the head.” Lock looked down at the body, “I gave him the ounce of lead he wouldn’t spare my mule,” he said flippantly.

“Now he’s leopardkill,” Tirenne murmured.

“Sorry, sir?”

“Thinking out loud, sergeant.” Tirenne pulled a face, “I warned him.”

“Of what?” Lock stooped over the fallen colonel: the bastard must have money hidden somewhere. He tried a coat pocket without success.

“That you were difficult... He refused to listen.” Tirenne paused, “But I will not condone looting any of the dead.”

“He owes me,” Lock said, “for the mule.” Reaching into Michelot’s sabretache he caught hold of something deep within its pockets: a medallion. He glanced up at Tirenne and saw the Frenchman’s decoration was missing, tunic torn over his heart where the pin was ripped out. “You weren’t in the charge!”

The Frenchman frowned, “I...refused. I disobeyed.” He grimaced, “No doubt I shall be called to account for my actions.” Tirenne gestured at the enamelled medal in Lock’s hand, “An English officer will pay handsomely for such a trophy.”

Lock got to his feet. Taking the Frenchman’s left hand he pressed the medallion to his palm, squeezing so hard the decoration’s clasp dug in. “I never heard of awards given to cowards, lieutenant,” he said quietly. He glanced at the cicatrice across Tirenne’s cheek, “And those stitches need to come out.”

from "Leopardkill" by Jonathan Hopkins

Buy your copy on Amazon or at a bookshop

Product Description

A thrilling war novel set against the dramatic backdrop of the Peninsular War that saw a small British force pitched against Napoleon’s Grande Armee.

It is Autumn 1808. The French army is gone from Portugal...except for one man. And what he has stolen is deadly secret.

Sergeant Joshua Lock and Captain the Honourable John Killen pursue the spy deep into Spain ahead of Sir John Moore’s British army - a force now ordered to fight the French alongside native troops. But instead of helping their new allies, the Spaniards seem to have turned against them.

Their quarry still free, Killen’s discovery of Lock’s affair with a fellow officer’s wife drives the childhood friends apart as savage winter storms grip the Galician mountains. With discipline breaking down, and Spain’s armies in disarray, every man must decide for himself - who is friend and who is foe? Should the outnumbered, starving British stand and fight, or run for the sea, and home?

Whilst unbeknown to the bickering allies, Bonaparte himself is storming through Spain with but a single purpose...to destroy every ‘mangy English leopard.’

Meticulously researched to be historically and militarily accurate, this dashing novel of cavalrymen at war is written by an expert horseman.


About the Author
Jonathan Hopkins has worked in occupations as diverse as bulk tanker loader and kitchen designer, but since 2001 has fitted and repaired saddles professionally.
A lifelong horse-keeper and long term chair of an affiliated riding club close to his home in South Wales, his interest in the cavalrymen who served under the Duke of Wellington originally grew out of research into saddlery worn by troop horses, for which there are no surviving patterns.
Leopardkill is his second published novel.

PRESS REVIEW - The King's Chalice