Hello, I am a British writer with a lot of experience of writing in different genres. Here is the beginning of one of my short stories which was published recently.
The road from Yelverton to Princetown provides a stunning drive if the weather is good. It climbs and meanders around the granite outcrops or ‘tors’ which typify the Dartmoor landscape in South West England. You will see no houses and apart from a hiker or two, few humans. You might observe some wild ponies and you are sure to see scatterings of hardy sheep grazing upon the stubbly grass which sprouts from the impoverished moorland topsoil.
It is a wild landscape, one where the weather can change without warning, and the wind can blow cruelly as the rains lash the body painfully. As the road climbs, the weather can become harsher and it is not uncommon for the sun to be shining on nearby Tavistock or Okehampton, yet Princetown and the higher moor will be shrouded in what the locals call “mizzle” - an inhospitable damp mist which gives the place an eerie silence, especially at night. There are many ghost stories from this part of the country.
You might wonder why a small town has been built here, but all soon becomes apparent as you reach the outskirts of Princetown. The town is dominated by a large granite structure with surprisingly small windows. This is the infamous Dartmoor Prison, originally built in the early 19th Century to house French prisoners from the Napoleonic wars, but still in use by Her Majesty