TV Rights optioned for The Sin Eater’s Daughter

Unless you’ve been living under a rock for the last last 24 hours, you’ll have no doubt seen a stream of capslocked, delighted posts from me. Because of this:



Yesterday I was finally able to announce that the television rights for my debut novel, and its sequels, had sold to an independent production company called Little Island. Over the past few months I’ve met with Little Island, and we’ve talked about the books, and television we love, and I’ve given them a sneak peek at the plans for book three. I couldn’t be happier for my story to have found an televisual home with Little Island, their passion for the story and their scope for the world is thrilling. I’m really looking forward to working with them on developing it into something that might one day be on your screens!

And sadly, before you ask, no, I can’t get you a part in it.


It comes after an array of wonderful things in Sin Eater land; The Sin Eater’s Daughter being nominated for a Mystery Writer’s of America Award, and for the 2016 Branford Boase, along with my editor, Genevieve Herr, the Waterstones Children’s Book Prize Awards Party, and being shortlisted in the YA Book Prize! It’s such a huge honour, I’m shortlisted alongside the biggest and most exciting names in YA fiction right now, and I feel very much like a child at the adults’ table at a wedding. The prize will be announced at Hay Festival, on June 2nd, so if you’re around, you should come!

To that end… I’m feeling generous, so I’ve put together some PRIZES.


  • A copy of The Sin Eater’s Daughter, signed and wax sealed
  • A copy of The Sleeping Prince, signed and wax sealed
  • A one-off painting of an anatomical heart in a bottle, by Actual Me
  • A one-off handpainted card, written to you, of an anatomical heart in a bottle, by Actual Me
  • A pair of Sin Eater earrings
  • A blue velvet pouch, wax sealed, containing one of the necklaces I made as gifts for the launch of The Sleeping Prince
  • A set of the Sin Cards I had printed for the launch of The Sin Eater’s Daughter, artwork by YA author, Alice Oseman
  • A vial of gold, on a silk cord
  • Three chocolate hearts to eat 🙂
  • A set of Sin Eater and Sleeping Prince postcards



  • A US hardback of The Sin Eater’s Daughter, signed and wax sealed
  • A set of the Sin Cards I had printed for the launch of The Sin Eater’s Daughter, artwork by YA author, Alice Oseman
  • A vial of gold, on a silk cord
  • One chocolate heart to eat 🙂
  • A set of Sin Eater and Sleeping Prince postcards



  • Live in the UK/Ireland
  • Be Following me on Twitter
  • Reply to the Tweet that this blogpost was announced via with WHO YOU’D LIKE TO SEE CAST IN A TV ADAPTATION OF THE SIN EATER’S DAUGHTER

This is JUST FOR FUN. I have no influence over any potential casting, it’s not my job, and nor should it be. This is purely for entertainment. But pictures and logic are welcome!

The competition will close two weeks from now, on Tuesday 10th May at midnight, British Summer Time. The winner of the first prize will be randomly selected. The winner of the runner up prize will be selected by me, at my own whim, based on the casting choice and reason that I liked/loathed/laughed at the most.


The Waterstones Children’s Book Prize: A love-letter to booksellers

Sin eater  cover shareI am so, so delighted, stunned, honoured, and proud that The Sin Eater’s Daughter has been shortlisted in the Teen Books category of the 2016 Waterstones Children’s Book Awards. It seems such an impossible, magical thing to happen. And yet it has. And the best thing about it is I’m in this incredible position because of the lovely booksellers at Waterstones.

I used to be terrified of Waterstones booksellers, when I was a teen. They seemed a different species to me; they moved with a little extra grace, their smiles were a bit more knowing. I couldn’t really look them in the eye.

During my younger teens I went to Waterstones every Saturday, and just hung around. I didn’t have the money to buy anything, but I liked to be near the books. I’d go into town, meet my friend and we’d go to Woolworths. I’d keep an eye out while she nicked bath pearls. Then she’d meet her boyfriend, and I’d go to Waterstones. I’d spend an hour in there, lusting after the books, and then go to the library and get some books out (thanks libraries, I love you, too). Then I’d nip back to Waterstones for a final visit, before sneaking to my Nana’s for lunch, and to read. I was a rebellious child.

the perfumeI remember the first ever, brand new book I personally chose and bought from Waterstones. It was The Perfume, by Caroline. B. Cooney, and it cost me £3.50 from the old Waterstones in Cathedral Lanes, Coventry. For a wannabe bibliophile who had almost zero access to brand new books of her own, this trip was to be GAME CHANGING. Prior to this most auspicious of days, I’d been taking Point Horror books out of the library for a whole year, wondering if I’d ever be sexy enough for a ghost to try and date me, or for a vampire to come and attack me (nope, and nope. To this day). It was time to buy my own.

Looking back now, I can see some similarities to the cover of The Sin Eater’s Daughter and the cover of The Perfume; a scary, creepy bottle; beautiful, vibrant colours; alluring title.

It’s cool when things come full circle.

It’s even cooler when you never even imagined it was possible.

wine 2

Artists impression of a Waterstones Bookseller in the mind of Melinda Salisbury, aged 14

I’ve digressed, I meant to talk about why booksellers intimidated me. It’s nothing they did, more just that they just were. They were everything I wanted to be and everything I had no idea how to be. In my head they spent all day in Waterstones with the books, being all smooth and knowledgeable, and at night they went to house parties where everyone wore black, and drank red wine, and talked about sexy exciting things. Like books.

Back then I was a scrawny, be-fringed, goblin child. I was not sexy. The only knowledge I had was the Latin names of every mammal native to the UK, and how to identify them from their stools. And it would have been very illegal to give me red wine.

So I couldn’t imagine that the booksellers would even deign to acknowledge my existence.

I was wrong.

After giving me a good hour to lurk in the stacks like a creepy creeper, a young man finally, delicately approached me to see if I needed any help. Lord, did I.

He was generous with his knowledge, and his time, and he made me feel like buying a single Point Horror book was as weighty a decision as buying a Booker winner. There was no rush. It was as important to him I went home with the right book as it was to me, or at least that’s how it felt. When I’d finally made my choice, the book was carried reverently to the till, where I paid for it. He gave me a shiny, pristine black carrier bag with a big gold ‘W’ on the front and a quote on the back to carry it home in. He even gave me change from my fiver (which, in fairness, he had to. That’s the law. I could try and romanticise it, but that would be weird. Weirder.).

I’ve always been so incredibly envious of authors who talk happily about their lifelong relationship with books, who grew up surrounded by them, had easy access to them, who begged for ‘just one more chapter’ every night. These lucky, lucky people who knew from when they were little that they wanted to be writers, and – more importantly – who believed that they could be.

I didn’t grow up in a family of readers, you see. My whole life it’s been the booksellers of the world, the librarians, and, recently, the bloggers, and the tweeters, and the Instagrammers, who have helped guide and shape my reading experience. Who have led me to the books I didn’t know I needed until they handed them to me.

So thank you, Waterstones booksellers, for that. These days, I realise that not all booksellers are magical beings from another realm who wear black, and drink red wine (obvs most are, I’ve met some of them). I can’t believe how lucky I am to be saying that I’ve been shortlisted for this prize. Thanks for being.

And congratulations to my fellow Older Fiction nominees, the incredible Lisa Williamson, Lisa Heathfield, and Jandy Nelson, my agency sister Moira Fowley-Doyle, and of course, my arch-enemy Leo Hunt. I’ve read all of our books and I’m lucky to be considered your equal.


Second blogpost in as many days… Miracles do exist.