About Daniel Kemp
At the age of seventy-six, Daniel Kemp has started his second year of studying the science of Psychology at the Open University. He is a member of The Society of Authors and also a bestselling writer. However, in early September 2025, he was diagnosed with cancer. He is now in palliative care at home, being looked after by his ex-wife. When he was writing his novels, he enjoyed writing stories that appealed to those who liked challenging themselves to solve mysteries that were set out before their eyes, but they couldn't.
His introduction to the world of espionage and mystery happened at an early age when his father was employed by the War Office in Whitehall, London, at the end of WWII. However, it wasn’t until after his father died that he showed any interest in anything other than himself!
On leaving academia he took on many roles in his working life: a London police officer, mini-cab business owner, pub tenant and licensed London taxi driver, but never did he plan to become a writer. Nevertheless, after a road traffic incident left him suffering from PTSD and effectively—out of paid work for four years, he wrote and self-published his first novel —The Desolate Garden.
Within three months of publication, that book was under a paid option to become a $30 million film. The option lasted for six years until distribution became an insurmountable problem for the production company.
All ten of his novels are now published by Next Chapter Publishing Company which has added an edition titled The Heirs And Descendants Collection, which holds all four books of that series, alongside an edition titled The Lies And Consequences Collection which contains all four volumes of that series.
He is the recipient of rave reviews from a prestigious Manhattan publication and described as—the new Graham Green—by a highly placed executive of Waterstones Books, for whom he did a countrywide tour of book signing events. He has also appeared on 'live' television in the UK publicising his first novel.
Less
Sometimes the less we know about what will happen in a work of fiction, the better off we are. Because the more we know about what happens next, the more we close off the possibilities of the unexpected, the less chance we have of allowing our subconscious minds to speculate and probe down to the awkward truths that we need to express instead of glib things we initially thought we wanted to say. If we already know what we intend to say, we are going to learn nothing by saying it. Only when we allow our imagination the space to catch us by surprise, when we sit back and stare in bafflement at words that suddenly start appearing on our screens, do we find ourselves to be truly writing. Only then can we honestly say that we are being brought – often by the seat of our pants – on…
Daniel Kemp 