What you always wanted to know … Step into the attic where the Jack Rogan Mysteries were conceived and created, and discover the intriguing world of the best selling and multi-award-winning historical thriller writer.
As a young boy, Gabriel Farago was given the key to his grandfather’s attic. This magical place opened a world of literature, music and history to the inquisitive boy. Gabriel spent many hours in the attic listening to his grandfather’s records, reading his books, and trying to unravel his cryptic journals which many years later inspired the writing of The Empress Holds The Key, the first book in the Jack Rogan Mysteries series.
What goes on in the mind of a thriller writer? Where do authors draw their inspiration from? Becoming a writer doesn’t happen in a vacuum. It is a journey in itself that provides the material for the stories, and the rich tapestry of characters and settings that bring those stories so vividly to life.
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Before it all began …
Step into the world of Jack Rogan’s early life and discover secrets that will astound you, and make you turn the pages, yearning for more.
To have your case adjourned on Monday morning after having worked through the entire weekend with little or no sleep, is every barrister’s nightmare. Sadly, that was exactly what happened to me on this occasion. I was staring down the barrel of a week without work. Bugger! Disappointed, I walked back to my chambers.
When I opened the door to my room, I noticed that the small portable TV that I kept on top of my drinks cabinet to watch the cricket was on. That’s strange, I thought, walking over to the cabinet to turn off the TV. Before I could reach for the switch, I heard a strange growl. Looking over my shoulder, I saw a small dog, eyes bulging with disapproval, staring at me. At first I didn’t trust my eyes, but when I turned around to face the strange visitor, there was no denying it: there was a dog sitting on my Chesterfield, watching television. Quite small, but feisty with a head that was a little too big, tiny ears, and a squashed nose that suggested that he liked to chase parked cars, he was snorting and making other obviously hostile noises. When I tried to reach for the switch again to turn off the TV, the growl became louder, and the hairs on his back began to bristle. Realising that confrontation wasn’t an option, I began to slowly back away towards the door.