Gabriella Poole
Gabriella Poole is a pseudonym used by Gillian Philip.
I live in the north-east highlands of Scotland, with one husband, two children, three dogs (Cluny, Milo and Otto), two psychotic cats (the Ghost and the Darkness), a slayer hamster (Buffy), three chickens (Mapp, Lucia and Mrs Norris) and a lot of nervous fish. I have taken a solemn vow not to get any more pets. I will probably break this vow.
Writing for a living is (a) what I always wanted to do; (b) occasionally frustrating; (c) a lot of fun – I take dictation from the characters in my head, who spend their lives telling me what’s going to happen next.
But I like it that I never know just how it’s all going to end – not till the fat lady sings, the villain meets a suitably sticky end, and the boy gets the girl (or indeed the boy).
As well as full-length books, I write fiction for secondary Key Stage 3. Life Of The Party, Mind’s Eye, Sea Fever and Cyber Fever have been published by Evans Brothers, and short stories The Changeling, Rockface, Misty and The Kindest Cut appear in their sci fi, crime, ghost and comedy collections. And I ghostwrite fiction for companies including Hothouse and Working Partners.
“For this lowlife to remain at the Academy while I was expelled is simply...oh dear, how shall we put it?""A crime," murmured Sara."That's kind, dear Sara, but crime can be fun and sophisticated." Katerina gave a thin-lipped smile as the other three girls chuckled. "There must be another word.""A disgrace," suggested the brunette at Sara's side.”
“Now get your Jimmy Choos on. You're going to party with your beau!""Get your Jimmy Choos on, you mean," remarked Cassie under her breath, but she felt a thrill of glamour as she slipped into the gorgeous stilettos. "Am I going to be able to walk?""In these shoes you do not walk, Cassie, you stalk.”
“You think I don't know these ancient labyrinths? I know them all, in every city. I've known them for centuries.""And you're looking your age," said Cassie.”
“You have the blade!" she hissed. "You.""I'm really sorry," said Jake. "Is that against school rules?""Don't do the banter thing," moaned Isabella. "Let's run.”
“His focus was all on Katerina, something crackling between them. Lust? Fury? Hatred?Oh, who the hell cared.”
“Killer with a polo mallet.”
“Where did you get that?" shouted Cassie, rubbing her temples fiercely, fighting to focus."This?" Isabella swung at a hooded figure as it made a lunge for her, cracking her weapon into its head. The figure dropped like a stone. "I bring this to school every term, Cassie! I knew it would come in handsome.""Handy," said Cassie, shaking her head clear at last.”
“I'm freezing," moaned Isabella. "I shall freeze to death.""Cheer up, my southern flower." Jake hauled on the oars. "This was your brilliant idea. Anyway, you can die spectacularly of pneumonia, and someone will write a great tragic opera about you."Isabella gave him a teeth-chattering grimace, but her expression turned dreamy and distant as if she was already imagining her last heart-rending aria. Cassie cleared her throat in exasperation. "Can we not talk about spectacular deaths?”
“Could be dangerous.""Danger," Isabella tossed her hair, "is my middle name.”
“Pretty?" mused Katerina. "I suppose so. She has unusual looks. True beauty, I think, requires a touch of cruelty. That seems to be missing.""Good," muttered Cassie under her breath.Richard shot her a warning look.”
“As Isabella turned to reach for it, Richard shrugged off his fencing jacket and plastron. Under it, he was wearing only a sleeveless vest that hugged his muscles tightly. Vain devil, thought Cassie, amused. He knew very well he looked darn good in defeat.”
“Oh, get down from your high horse before you fall off.”
“That boy will be horribly deformed by the time he leaves this school.""He will?" said Cassie."From being twisted round Katerina's little finger so often.”
“Yup: definitely more Snow Queen than Dancing Queen.”
“Sir Alric is big on self-motivation, initiative, that kind of guff.”
“What about Katerina? Is she Head Girl?""Boss Cat, more like." Isabella wrinkled her nose."Where's she from?""Sweden," said Isabella carelessly. Oh, right. So Cassie's movie-star casting had been spot-on. Not that she could imagine Katerina ever Vanting to Be Alone, though. Who else was Swedish? ABBA? Cassie wrinkled her nose. Not a good comparison. "I can see her in a silver catsuit, though," she muttered under her breath.”
“Patronising git.”
“Jilly Beaton's a vicious cow. Inspectors love her, but she's a cow when they've gone.""Back home in Argentina," sniffed Isabella, "cows are very important, but they know their place.”