Pamela Hartshorne, who has penned 50 Mills and Boon romances from her home in York, would happily plead guilty to the first three charges, but is at least prepared to put up a spirited defence to the final accusation.

"People often ask, 'When are you going to write a real book?'" she says. "Putting Mills and Boon up against a great literary work is pointless, it's like that old apples and orange comparison. People describe them as escapism as though there was something wrong with people wanting to inhabit a safe little world for a while."

While great works of literature may usually be the product of years of angst and soul searching, Mills and Boon is a much more efficient factory, which this year like every other pumped out 600 new titles in the UK alone with very little fuss.

Despite Waterstone's decision not to stock the books, 95 per cent of people know exactly what Mills and Boon stands for – the kind of impressive brand recognition that most authors would happily sell their agent for.

"Mills and Boon has become incredibly popular with very little pushing," says Pamela. "There's a massive market in North America where they take the books all very seriously and as a brand it's right up there with Coca Cola."

Pamela had never read Mills and Boon, but when looking for a way to finance a PhD, on the rather unromantic sounding environmental health of York's medieval streets, serendipity brought her into contact with
the publishers.

"I woke up one morning and decided that I wanted to do a PhD in medieval history, but financially I couldn't just give up work," she says. "A friend of mine who worked in an embassy told me she had just signed a visa for someone who was funding her studies through Mills and Boon and I thought right, that's what I'll do. I was very naive.

"I had a month dogsitting at a house in Scotland. It was really miserable weather and I sat at an old typewriter bashing out stories and by the end I had written three chapters and a synopsis. The publishers sent it straight back and eventually I bought a book on how to write romantic novels which is what I should have done in the first place. They still rejected my efforts, but said they liked my voice and to have another go. Finally, at the fourth attempt, I was accepted."

Having previously taught English in Indonesia, Pamela began writing under the pseudonym Jessica Hart and her only regret is her choice of name.

"When I started out I didn't think Pamela Hartshorne sounded like a romance writer," she says. "It was Mills and Boon who suggested I keep the Hart part and after days of agonising I plumped for Jessica. I've always had a slight tinge of regret about it, I don't feel like a Jessica and when I see my books somehow it feels like they don't belong
to me."

Cynics would probably say that hiding behind a pseudonym is probably no bad thing, but Pamela is unrepentant about her career spent peddling
happy endings.

"Mills and Boon is about making things work out," she says. "The plots are often interchangeable, but it's not the ending which is important, it's how you get there. I belong to the Romantic Novelist Association which gives new writers the chance to have their scripts proofed by published authors. The single biggest problem is getting caught up with the complexities of the plot and not enough about the complexities of characters.

"There was one of my books which started with the couple on a Scottish hillside and they could have spent the entire novel there. I did allow them to come down in the end, but the point is Mills and Boon is about emotion, not location."

At a set 55,000 words each, the books are not exactly weighty and, depending on other commitments, Pamela writes between two and four a year.
It is, she admits, a gentle way to earn a living, but while Mills and Boon may be a sentimental cocoon from the real world,
sadly, its authors aren't similarly protected.

"Last year the relationship I was in fell apart quite spectacularly," she says. "I spent Christmas on my own, my boiler broke down and I wrote one book in the most awful state. I flicked through it the other day and thought, 'Oh dear, I really was miserable'.

"I'm not a chocolate and flowers romantic, but I suppose I do have a sense of how things should be and the great thing about what I do is that at least in the pages of a book I can make things turn out right.

"In truth, I can't really complain. In the morning, I switch my computer on, check my emails, then it's time for lunch and as the day wears on I get more and more panicked that I haven't written enough.

"However, I still potter about until about 9pm and then squeeze out another few pages and make a few notes. I wish I could be one of those writers who gets up at 5am and has done half a days work by breakfast, but I'm not.

"I do a lot of plotting socially and friends often ask for a name check, but I tend to make their characters the opposite to what they actually are. One friend was desperate to be the woman the hero had never quite got over and that was fine, but it was on the condition that she was dead."

However, even Pamela, who is also editing a book on the history of York Minister, admits that the novelty of solely writing about happy couples does wear off and she is hankering after something more medieval
and meaty.

"After 50 books I think maybe it would be nice to try something else," she says. "Since I finished my PhD I've been looking for something else to do, which I suppose is a bit more serious. Having said that, it's amazing what some people read into Mills and Boon.

"Recently, I went to speak at the University of York and the students started telling me all these gothic overtones and incest taboos they had discovered. I don't mind, if they want to believe a romance is really about the hero wanting to replace his mother then that's fine by me.

"They also pointed out that my heroines often wear aprons. Maybe it is symbolic of some deep psychological issue, but the truth is that I like cooking and gardening, that's what I know, so that's what my heroine tends to do."

Like Mills and Boon, Pamela is unrepentant to the last.


Potted guide to Mills and Boon


Founded by Gerald Mills and Charles Boon in 1908, the company began to concentrate on romance during the 1930s when they realised many people wanted an escape from the Depression.

Each month a set number of books are published and, after three months, any unsold copies are pulped.

Mills and Boon, now part of Harlequin Mills and Boon, has 50 million readers worldwide buying 6.6 books per second. Its 74 per cent share of the paperback romantic fiction market is worth more than £54m
each year.

More than three million women in the UK regularly read Mills & Boon.

There are more than 1,500 authors worldwide; 200 living in the UK, producing 600 new titles per year.

If you stacked every book sold in a single day on top of each other, the pile would be 35 metres higher than the Eiffel Tower.

Over the last 40 years, Harlequin characters have kissed each other more than 20,000 times, shared about 30,000 hugs and headed for the altar at least 7,000 times.

Best lines

Geraunt de Paine in Singapore Sling: "I look forward to teaching you to fall without getting hurt."


Guy de Courcy in Betrayed Hearts: "I take it, then, that
as your father is no longer alive you did batter him to death with your tongue?
My sympathies lie entirely with him."


Guy Dangerfield in Appointment at the Altar: "Are your shoes up for a walk? It's too nice an evening to go straight home and I could do with a bit of air."


A Fool For Love: Alex's voice rubbed against herlike warm velvet. Deena
had to consciously hold in a shiver, while she attempted a cool, sophisticated expression.