A little more about Through Dancing Poppies: release date: 24th April.

/ Caron Allan / Leave a comment

Only two weeks until Through Dancing Poppies launches: it’s book 3 in my 1960s-era murder mystery series the Miss Gascoigne mysteries. In case you’ve missed me banging on about it for yonks, here’s a quick recap:

Through Dancing Poppies: Miss Gascoigne mysteries book 3: an intriguing cosy mystery set in the swinging 1960s

Poppy Bell is a teenage singing sensation about to ‘hit the big time’ and newly engaged to a man old enough to be her father. Everyone says she’s a gold digger. But then…

Dee Gascoigne, now a fully-fledged—or nearly fully-fledged—private investigator working for the law firm of Montague Montague, meets Poppy a couple of times and can’t help but notice she is a very talented musician who is young, naive and on the brink of something incredible. But she is also surrounded by people who know exactly what they are doing, they’ve done this kind of thing before, are used to the spotlight and the glare of media sensationalism, and know how to present the perfect image to grow a very public career. Then there’s a near miss in a car park, and suddenly Dee has an intense feeling of danger lurking in the shadows. But who is the target? Poppy or her new fiancé, wealthy entrepreneur Teddy Reynolds?

Research for this book mainly consists of remembering my early childhood, and trawling through old photos, or watching Juke Box Jury on YouTube!

Who is Dee Gascoigne? Well, she is the baby born in book 4 of my 1930s Dottie Manderson mystery series. She used to be a modern languages teacher at a posh girls’ school, but was sacked because the school board objected to her leaving her husband with a view to divorcing him. Yes, honestly, that kind of thing really happened. A divorced or separated woman was genuinely treated badly by many people who saw her as immoral or dangerous or subversive in some way.

Almost by accident, Dee falls into an investigating role when she lets her curiosity get the better of her in a village where she is convalescing. She solves the case, and at the end of book one, she is taken on by a family friend’s law firm as a fully fledged professional private investigator. A job she is very well suited to, in spite of her former mentor’s attempt to woo her back to the school.

It’s been great fun writing this book, and I’m already getting ideas together for book 4 of the series, called All That Glitters. As you no doubt guessed, that’s going to be set at Christmastime.

Meanwhile, here’s a short extract for Through Dancing Poppies:

She was about to tell her brother Rob how glad she was that he was with her, but immediately she was distracted by a couple a short way ahead of them, standing under a streetlight. An older man with, she presumed, his daughter. The man appeared angry about something, and the girl, arms folded across her chest, was glancing about her anxiously.

Dee was on the point of asking in her best schoolmarm voice, if there was something the matter, but the girl turned back to glance in their direction. Only then did Dee realise it was none other than the school’s former pupil and new media sweetheart, Poppy Bell.

‘Poppy?’ Dee said, and the girl fixed a look on Dee and Rob, wide-eyed, fearful. ‘Whatever is the matter, dear?’ Dee asked, falling into her role of responsible teacher.

Dee was aware of Rob looking in surprise first at Dee then at the young woman Dee addressed, but Dee fixed her attention on Poppy and the man with her.

‘Didn’t I meet you recently?’ Poppy asked, a frown creasing her brow as she tried to recall.

‘That’s right. I was coming out of the Holly Tree restaurant in London with Miss Evans two weeks ago, just as you were going in. Is everything all right?’

‘I don’t know…’ Poppy glanced at her companion, who turned to look at Dee and Rob. Dee realised he was angry. He said,

‘Some bloody fool just tried to run me down as I got out of my car. Luckily, I leapt back smartly enough, or I’d have been done for. The bastard—excuse my language—the devil wasn’t even looking where he was going. Probably drunk. Had to have been doing fifty, and in a car park too! Anyway, it shook me up a bit, that’s all. No harm done.’ He brushed his suit jacket down as if he’d been rolled in the dirt.

Dee’s hand went to her mouth in horror. Instinctively she glanced around her, as did her brother, but it was too dark to see if anyone was lurking, and they certainly didn’t spot any cars on the move.

‘Rotter’s already gone. Scared of getting into trouble, I don’t doubt. Anyway… Excuse me, where are my manners. I’m Teddy Reynolds. Poppy and I are—well, we’ve just got engaged to be married as a matter of fact.’

Dee, confirmed in her judgement of his appearance on the television, calculated that he was old enough—easily old enough—to be the girl’s father, nevertheless remembered to smile, and said,

‘Oh my! Congratulations! How exciting.’

He put a proprietary arm about the girl’s waist, pulling her close to his side. Poppy smiled up at him, leaning into the crook of his arm, but casting an anxious glance about her from time to time. Further away, another couple had just got out of their car, whilst more cars were pulling in at the gate.

‘Is this your old teacher, lovely?’ Teddy Reynolds asked Poppy.

Dee didn’t care for the old part, especially from him. She said,

‘That’s right. I used to teach here, though I never had Poppy in any of my classes. I taught modern languages: German and French, basically. Now I’m just a visitor like everyone else.’

‘Poppy said she’d met you recently. And this gentleman is your husband, I assume?’ Reynolds said, turning to hold out a hand to Rob. Rob shook the hand, but added,

‘No, no, I’m just her brother. Just come along for the fun of it.’

‘Well, it’s very nice to meet you both. I do hope you’ll join us at our party tomorrow evening. It’s at my sister’s place. She’s married to Poppy’s manager, my good friend Ivor Norton. You may have heard of my sister. Valerie Blackshaw? Anyway, we’d be delighted if you could both join us. It starts at eight o’clock, it’s not anything formal, no need to ‘dress’, haha. I’ll just jot the address down for you.’ He reached into his pocket for his wallet and drew out a small white card. ‘Do say you can make it; everyone from dinner this evening is invited.’

‘Of course, we’d be thrilled,’ Rob told him.

‘Valerie Blackshaw? My goodness, she is my absolute favourite actress! She was just incredible in A Fatal Redemption, and in The Younger Sister,’ Dee couldn’t help bursting out, though she knew it was probably silly of her. But Teddy smiled indulgently and she could see he was pleased. Putting away what appeared to be a gold-plated fountain pen, he handed her the card.

‘Well, you’ll be able to tell her that yourself tomorrow. She’ll be delighted to meet you. Miss Evans from the school will be there too, and others you’ll know. But thank you both for your kind concern this evening. Not everyone would bother. And now, look here, Poppy my lovely, we need to get a move on, or you’ll be late.’

‘Right,’ said the girl, calm enough now to slip back into the usual bored tones of a teenager. ‘See you,’ she added to Dee and Rob, then turned on her heel and walked away.

***

 

 

Torn between three loves

/ Caron Allan / Leave a comment

As you might be aware, I’m putting the final touches to my book Through Dancing Poppies. It’s the third book in the Miss Gascoigne mystery series, set in the 1960s in the UK, and the release date for this book is 24th April. Not long now!!!

As one book nears its end–production-wise, anyway–other books call their siren song. It’s so tempting. Because when you’ve worked on the same book for one year, two years, more, you can start to feel a bit like someone waiting for the last guest to leave at a party. Just, go, already! I mean, you love them to bits, and will definitely invite them again, but right at this moment, you just need them to leave. That’s what it’s like as you near the end of a book you’ve worked on, in this case, for a little over eighteen months.

So the idea of another book to work on is very tempting.

But which one? Something totally new, like my roughly planned out Ain’t Misbehavin’ a kind of caper set in 1931, featuring a couple of clever con-artists, a mother and daughter who scam people out of a ton of money and are always a step ahead of the law.

Or the next Dottie book – book 9 of the series which is due out in December and still needs final revisions and proofreading? This book is called The Rough Rude Sea, and its appeal is very strong–a ship-based setting travelling between the Canary Islands and the Channel Islands in the summer of 1935. Here’s a teeny extract from the beginning. To set the scene, Dottie and William are about to return home from their honeymoon (spoiler! Now you’ve got to read the first 8 books! 😀 ) but they turn up at the docks to board the ship and…

‘This is not what I was expecting.’ Dottie Hardy gazed mournfully up at the small steamship moored a little ahead of them. The nameplate attached to the bow claimed this ship to be the SS Icarus. Dottie felt this did not bode well.
William paid the taxi driver and turned. He frowned as he looked at the ship. ‘Must be some kind of mistake.’
There was an official of some sort standing at the dockside, by the roped gangplank that led onto the ship. He held a clipboard and had a red pencil in his hand. William went over. The young man looked up, gave William an uninterested look and said, boredom oozing from every pore, ‘Name?’
‘Hardy,’ said William without even thinking. Then he said, ‘Hang on, what happened to the SS Tigris?’
The man yawned, and scratched his chin. William was aware of an urge to shake him. William shoved his hands in his pocket just in case.
‘The company’s gone bust. Three days ago, in fact. This vessel has been courteously provided to bring the first class passengers back to British shores, with no expense to yourself, I might add, all costs have been generously covered by SeaSteamers. Was that William Hardy? And er…’ He paused and looked Dottie up and down in a wolfish manner that had William shoving his free hand even deeper into his pockets, ‘I suppose that is the delightful Mrs Hardy?’
‘You suppose correctly,’ William growled, and thrust his tickets and the passports at the man.
The man perused them with minimum attention and handed them back. ‘Seems fine. Cabin 27, middle deck. Dinner’s at eight, in the main saloon bar and dining-room, top deck. No need to dress.’ He yawned again and turned away, all interest in the passengers lost.
William turned to find Dottie was coming up behind him, the taxi driver bringing their luggage from the back of his car.
‘What’s going on? Has our ship been delayed? Or is it moored up somewhere else?’
William, hardly believing it himself, explained.
She looked at the little ship in disbelief. ‘This is it?’
‘Yup.’
‘Really? It looks so small. You’ll never get five hundred people and crew on that.’
‘Nope. He says it’s just for the first-class passengers. I’m guessing there aren’t many of those.’
She stared at the vessel for a full minute. ‘And are we happy to go on board this little thing?’

OR… I could have a stab at the more contemporary book Dirty Work, which is book 1 of the new Families Can Be Murder trilogy, a spin-off from Friendship Can Be Murder, my books Criss Cross, Cross Check and Check Mate, which feature posh Cressida and her determination to get rid of annoying or nasty people. She confides all to her diary, so it’s not exactly a murder ‘mystery’. In the new trilogy, it’s her husband Matt who is keeping the diary and confessing everything on paper:

In the front of my wife’s old diaries, there’s always some romantic, sweet dedication, full of love and promises of devotion. I did one for her, years ago, but her first husband Thomas, did loads of them, and they were all flowery and romantic, the kind of thing posh blokes always do, and in really expensive diaries, too, you know the sort of thing, designer stationery. She still keeps them in a drawer of her bedside table and she gets them out now and again and sits there all emotional and lost in the past, and… It makes me wonder if she loved Thomas (she never ever called him Tom) more than me. I get a bit jealous when I think of him. Which isn’t fair, I know, but I can’t help it, I just do…
Oh yes. So now I’ve got my own diary, and all it says in the front is ‘99p from Last Chance Book Bargains: your last chance to buy ’em cheap!’ Really cheap too, there’s a calendar in the front, and there’s two 27th Februaries. Is that for some kind of late Groundhog Day, or in case I need a do-over?
But instead of sitting in comfort in the sunroom at home like she does, here I am, stuck in the cab of my van, writing a quick sneaky note as I wait to find out what my dad is getting up to.
‘Matt,’ he said to me one day last week, ‘Could you give us a lift to the New Mills Business Park? I’ve arranged to see someone about something next Friday afternoon, ’bout twoish.’
Well, I don’t mind doing things for my dad—we get on really well, he’s not as young as he was, and he’s always been there for me, even when I was in prison—but he was acting dead cagey, so naturally I was onto him.
‘What’s it about?’ I asked him.
He just tapped the side of his nose. ‘No need for you to get involved, mate. I just need a lift, and don’t for the life of you go mentioning it to your mother.’
Nothing sets off alarm bells like my dad telling me he’s up to something I can’t tell my mum. What’s the old bugger getting up to now? At first I thought it might be some kind of birthday surprise he’s got planned for her. But to be honest, I doubt he even remembers when her birthday is, after only forty-nine years of wedded bliss. It’s like the pin-code on her phone. He needed to use her phone, and it was locked. So he asked her for the code, and she (very cleverly as it turns out) said, ‘Just tap in the code. It’s our wedding date.’
So obviously he was completely stumped. Not big on remembering anniversaries or birthdays, or… just anything really.

So tempting, all these writing/rewriting options. And then there’s a new series idea I’ve been thinking about for several years, The Runaway Policeman. I’ll just leave that with you.

***

 

A Right Cozy Historical Crime, a deliciously diverse anthology of cozy mysteries that span centuries and continents: the blog tour!

/ Caron Allan / Leave a comment
Welcome to the A Right Cozy Historical Crime anthology blog tour!
About A Right Cozy Historical Crime:

Step into the comforting fog of time with A Right Cozy Historical Crime, a deliciously diverse anthology of cozy mysteries that span centuries and continents. From ancient alleys to a Victorian medical school, American towns to Scottish glens, these tales take you on a gentle stroll through history – where murder hides behind lace curtains and secrets linger in candlelit corridors. Perfect for fans of clever sleuths, rich historical detail, and mysteries solved with brains and life-experience and observational skills.

The  anthology includes cozy mysteries written by these contributing authors:

Marti M. McNair                 Olga Wojtas

Sheena Macleod                  Loretta Mullholland

Lexie Conyngham                Barbara Stevenson

Meg Woodward                    Dianna Sinovic

Gareth Williams                    Lisa Harkrader

Sheila Dené Lawrence       Penny Hutson

Lisabeth Early

Wendy H Jones (author and compiler)

 My Review:

The is a collection of very varied work – some set ‘now’ and some set int he past, with a variety of settings. This kind of collection is a great way for authors to showcase their work, and many of the stories I read would make excellent ‘prequels’ to a full-blown series of novels.

There is a range of styles here, too, with more formal language suited to the 1920s or 1940s, to flowery descriptive language, and stories where the style is chatty, informal, immersive.

All the stories are good mystery stories with either amateur detectives or professional investigators, but I’d like to call out some special ones that I really enjoyed: Dianna Sinovic’s Curtain Call, Red Heart Summer by Sheila Dene Lawrence,  Lisabeth Early’s Second Sight and Loretta Mulholland’s story Cave Mouth Crime. You’ve got to read those! And of course, the story Cadavers and Conspiracies by the collection compiler Wendy H Jones.

I highly recommend this book!

About Wendy H Jones: 

International Award Winning Author Wendy H. Jones lives in Scotland, and her police procedural series featuring DI Shona McKenzie are set.Wendy has led a varied and adventurous life. Her love for adventure led to her joining the Royal Navy to undertake nurse training. After six years in the Navy she joined the Army where she served as an Officer for a further 17 years.

Killer’s Countdown was her first novel and the first book in the Shona McKenzie Mysteries. Killer’s Crew won the Books Go Social Book of the Year 2017. The eighth book in the series, Killer’s Curse, was released in 2023.

The Dagger’s Curse, the first book in The Fergus and Flora Mysteries, was a finalist in the Woman Alive Magazine Readers Choice Award Book of the Year.

Turning to humorous crime the Cass Claymore Investigates series was born.

Wendy is also a highly successful marketer and is currently in the process of rereleasing her completely updated marketing book Marketing Matters. This will be part of the Writing Matters Series following the release of Motivation Matters. She is also the author of the Bertie the Buffalo picture book and associated soft toy and colouring book.

Wendy is delighted to be one of the authors in two anthologies aimed at empowering women – The Power of Why, and Women Win Against All Odds. She is proud to be the President of the Scottish Association of Writers and is the host of The Writing and Marketing Show podcast, a writing and marketing coach. and CEO of Writing Matters online writing school, Authorpreneur Accelerator Academy.

LINKS TO BUY 

PAPERBACK

KINDLE  

Author links:

WENDY H JONES 

LEXIE CONYNHAM

OLGA WOJTAS 

SHEILA DENE LAWRENCE  

MARTI M MCNAIR 

LISABETH EARLEY 

GARETH WILLIAMS 

DIANNA SINOVIC

LISA HARKRADER 

SHEENA MACLEOD 

 See these other blogs below  for more info and reviews!

#ARIGHTCOZYHISTORICALCRIME

The Roughest Rudest Sea – first draft blues

/ Caron Allan / Leave a comment

How I think I look as I contemplate my next scene.

So as I mentioned a few weeks ago, I’m knee-deep in the first draft of my new Dottie Manderson mystery, The Rough Rude Sea. It’s book nine of the series and we join Dottie and William on their journey home–by ship, of course–from their honeymoon. I suppose by rights, I should change the series to the Dottie Hardy mysteries – but let’s leave that on one side for now…

I’m wrestling with characters, trying to piece together the ‘action’, everything is at the juggling stage and the ‘What did I say his name was?’ stage. But at least I’ve got ten months to sort it all out. That shouldn’t be too difficult. I think. Or…?

Here’s sneak-peek of the opening of the story; I hope you are intrigued:

August 1935. Gran Canaria.

With hindsight, as she lay dying on the hard floor of the dining-room, Katherine Henshawe realised she should have expected this to happen. She should have been on her guard. She’d been a fool, she saw that now. If she’d had any doubts about the severity of her situation, the gently spreading pool of blood on the floor in front of her gave her a good indication. She tried to call for help, but of course it was pointless. No one came.

‘Save your last few breaths,’ her killer—for she knew now that was who this smiling person was—told her with a wink. ‘Not that it’ll do you much good. Not long now, as I expect you can see for yourself. And with you out of the way, I shall be very rich. Very rich indeed. I hope you enjoyed your holiday!’

At the door, there was a slight pause, then a merry chuckle and the door closed again.

No one would find her in time now. She knew too that she would never see her home in Berkshire again. Katherine Henshawe spent her final moments praying. Not for a miracle. Not for the prolongation of her life, or even for forgiveness and the chance for an eternal life in Heaven.

From the corner of her eye, she could just make out the crucifix on the wall. With her last breath, she prayed that her killer would suffer horribly for what they had done to her.

 

This book will be released in December, as I mentioned, and eBook pre-orders are available. There will also be a paperback version, and a large print, and even a hardback edition as I know some people really like those. Stay tuned for more updates!

***

Staring into the candle’s flame

/ Caron Allan / 2 Comments

I’ve shared this before – about ten years ago – so I’m hoping you won’t remember!! I’ve been taking a break from writing, and only got back to it this week. But I’ve spent some time going over old notes, old files spilling over with ideas, and snippets and things that caught my attention and seemed worth noting down ‘just in case’. This was one of them. I’m inclined to overthink stuff, and to take a small thing and knit an entire story onto  it, which is how this came about.

I’m a very visual/image-driven person. I am inspired by music and the written or spoken word, yes, but nothing moves me to create more than an image. I create my book covers as inspiration for my stories, and often have covers created for books that won’t see the light of day for ten years. Sometimes if I’m stuck for ideas, I browse through Pixabay, or Shutterstock or Deposit Photos,  or through my own photo albums, virtual and paper. This is what I thought when I saw this image. (actually it was 12 years ago now, I’ve just discovered…Jan 2014)

I look into the flame and imagine…

Candles. Flames. Bobbing gently, like stars reflected in a pond. Shining points. Barely moving. Warm. Sun-bright. Thinning darkness and concentrating it, the surrounding darkness grows smaller, denser, turning on night instead of light. Two candles together, mirroring. Let there be light. Rasp of match. And there was light.

Worship the light, as your ancestors did, for when the light was gone, the herds moved away, the food was gone, the heat, the shelter. You lost everything because there was no light. Pleading with your hand-made gods for just one more spring, another dawn, for the sun to rise again and bring new hope.

Prometheus stole me to illuminate Bede, to shine upon Shakespeare’s moving quill. Does the flame recall their struggles with words, with pages? The artist slaving in his garret, with only a flame to light his way, his hands and pages covered in spent wax, the litter of the revelation.

The questor in the labyrinth. Lighting one step at a time, no more. You move ahead by faith alone. At any moment the light could be snatched from your grasp and where would you be? Alone, in the dark, where the minotaur prowls. You hear its step ever closer, its breath on your cheek in the gloom.

The flame bobbing and dancing shows the presence of evil in your room. We used to tell one another ghost stories by this small light. We decorated our cave walls with the shape of things our dreams told us. Superstition, hand in hand with creativity.

The light on a tomb or grave, don’t let them go into the dark and be forgotten. The candle of prayerfulness and sorrow, of all-night vigils at bedsides, of pain and fear. No relief found in this golden glow. This is too small a point of hope.

Does the candle see me? Is the flame aware of those who cluster moth-close around? I’ve seen it all before. You aren’t the first, you won’t be the last, to be awestruck by my intangible beauty. Flame is eternal, coming down the centuries, the generations, lighting the way for all.

***

New year, new books

/ Caron Allan

Most of us had to get back to work this week, and that includes writers! I’m at the creative stage, ideas flowing, crazy ones or a bit more sensible, I’m making a huge amount of notes, then just as likely, crossing them out the next day, only to come back a day after that and think, ‘Yes, actually, I like that idea, it could work really well.’

I’m not much of a planner but I’m doing my level best. I’ve been looking ahead, and trying to plan a work schedule.

I’m intending to spend the next five weeks drafting my new Dottie book – hopefully that will be out in December. That will be book 9 of the series, and I’m calling it The Rough Rude Sea. Dottie and William return by steamship from their honeymoon. Obviously it’s not going to be smooth sailing. (sorry about the pun).

Then, mid-February, it will be all change, and I’ll be in editing mode as I tidy up and polish Through Dancing Poppies, the third book in the Miss Gascoigne mysteries series.

Then…

…at some point I’ve got to crowbar in rewrites and polishing etc of Dirty Work, book 1 in the new trilogy Families Can Be Murder. This is a spin-off of my original trilogy Friendship Can be Murder, book 1 Criss Cross was first published in 2012. This time it’s Matt, not Cressida, writing the diary entries and confessing all.

Apparently I’m also going on holiday… I think I might need it!

***

 

Queen of Grime: book 1 of a new crime thriller series with secrets and dark humour

/ Caron Allan / 1 Comment

The Queen of Grime is about to pay. Big time.

Erin Flett is used to clearing up the sad debris of forgotten lives and tragic deaths. A crime and trauma scene cleaner from a deprived Edinburgh housing estate, she’s made a good life for herself and her daughter. But a secret from the past is about to catch up with her.

Ten years ago, Erin told a desperate lie with serious consequences. Now, someone else knows, and they’re determined to make Erin and her loved ones pay.

Following a terrifying late-night attack, the tension mounts until Erin doesn’t know who she can trust. As she struggles to keep her family safe, little does she realise just how close the danger is…

Queen of Grime is the first in a new series introducing Erin Flett, crime and trauma scene cleaner, and a rich cast of characters, set against the backdrop of the city of Edinburgh. With an occasional undertone of dark humour, it is a tale of family lies and family ties, friendships, secrets and loss.

My Review:

I need to confess something. I’d already read this book a while ago, before I got involved in this blog. There. I’ve said it. Phew. Now you know I was already a fan. I feel so much better now.

What did I love about this book?

I love Erin, the main character, she tough, she’s snarky, she doesn’t suffer fools gladly, and she is a smart lady. She’s got some great – and not-so-great friends and family, colourful characters you completely believe in.

BUT…

She’s got a secret. And someone – we don’t know who – but someone knows that she has this secret. And they are determined to get it out of her. A series of seemingly unrelated minor events and issues arise, and Erin is asking herself, is it all connected?

As readers, we KNOW that, of course, it’s connected. But how? And who is the person lurking in the dark?

Because this book is full of lurkers. There are people everywhere Erin goes, just watching, waiting, setting her on edge, attacking her, attacking people she loves. Who is it? Are they sinister? Or is there some other motive behind all this? You just can’t tell. Erin herself is observing them all, and trying to figure out what’s on their mind, unable to let herself relax with them for a moment.

I reread this book again last week after a break, and the thing that makes me smile about it is, I always say to myself, I’ll just read that next chapter, then I’ll put it down. But I get to the end of that chapter, and I can’t help myself, I just have to read the next one, and the next… It’s compulsive.

So yes, I absolutely recommend this book. I’m really looking forward to the next in the series. Hint, hint.

BUT I’d seriously advise you to read the prequel, Spoils of the Dead, it sets the scene perfectly, introduces some back story and the main character and her people, and the eBook is only 99p so why not? If you’re going to do a thing, you’ve got to do it properly, right?

LINKS TO BUY Queen of Grime:

Paperback 

Kindle 

About Helen:

Helen Forbes is an author of Scottish crime fiction. She lives in her home-town of Inverness, in the Scottish Highlands. Helen began by writing contemporary and historical fiction, with no intention of turning to crime. It was a chance remark at a writing group about one of her short stories that led to her debut police procedural novel, In the Shadow of the Hill, set in Inverness and South Harris, featuring Detective Sergeant Joe Galbraith. Madness Lies is book 2 in the DS Joe Galbraith series, set in Inverness and North Uist.

Helen has had two standalone crime thrillers published by Scolpaig Press. Unravelling, set in Inverness, was published in July 2021. Deception, set in Edinburgh, was published in January 2022.

Spoils of the Dead, a novella, was published in November 2022, and Queen of Grime, the first in a new series, was released in December 2022.

Helen would be delighted to hear from readers. Please contact her and join her mailing list on her website http://www.helenforbes.co.uk to get her author news and a free copy of the novella, Spoils of the Dead.

WEBSITE AND SOCIAL MEDIA LINKS:

Facebook 

Website

Amazon Author Page

#QUEENOFGRIME #Scottishauthors #crimewriters

Coming soon: The Cousins

/ Caron Allan

I’m always a little bit surprised when I meet a deadline. Not quite sure why, maybe it’s because a book seems such a huge thing to undertake, until, bit by bit, it’s done. I imagine it’s the same with any project – you break it down into small chunks and that makes it easier to handle. It’s also easier to measure progress, and you don’t (sometimes!) get overwhelmed by the enormity of the thing.

So with more than a little relief, I’m pleased to announce that The Cousins will be released on 12th December as planned.  It will be available in eBook format, paperback and large print. It’s not part of a series, it’s a stand-alone book.

Please be aware that it contains some emotional scenes, and some description of memories of child sexual abuse.

Here’s a little bit about it:

The Cousins.

Secrets. Everybody has them.

When Caitlin sits by her grandfather’s side as he lays dying, she thinks she’s about to lose her entire family. Before he passes, he makes an odd comment, leaving her with something to puzzle over, along with a set of old black and white photographs.

Then at his funeral, she meets her long-lost cousins, and soon there are even more questions to answer and puzzles to solve. Where have they been all these years? Why haven’t they been in touch if they care so much about ‘family’?

The past holds secrets. Everybody seems to have something they are keeping to themselves.

And that includes Caitlin.

Intrigued? Click here to read more.

If you’d like to order this book, please click here.