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The Dottie Manderson mysteries book 1 to 4
Dottie Manderson is the amateur sleuth and heroine of my murder mystery novels set in Britain in the pre-war period of the 1930s. Dottie is a young woman from a wealthy family; she works as a mannequin, modelling fashion for wealthy clients. Dottie has a scary mother, and a beloved, married older sister Flora. Somehow Dottie keeps getting involved in detective work, mainly due to her habit of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, or just being plain nosy. And then there’s handsome hero, police officer William Hardy… she’s a wee bit involved with him, too.
To find out more about each book, and for a sneak peek from each, please click on the links below:
He was perhaps in his early thirties. Fair hair, dark from the rain. One of those moustaches that were all the rage. Blue eyes, very blue like a child’s, wide and astonished-looking. But the blood—oh the blood. So much…
A hard jab from the pistol recalled her to what she was supposed to do, and her fingers trembled on the clasp for the second time that night as she began to undo her necklace. He laughed at her terror, whilst she heard a number of ladies gasp…
The police officer gave her a grin as he turned to fetch the keys out of a cupboard behind him. ‘Just out the three days, isn’t it? I know you said he was at home with you all night. But we all know it was him what took that deer from Barr Hall. And the laird is also a very good friend of the Procurator. So maybe try and keep your man home at night, m’dear, if you don’t want him to go straight back to prison, this time for a wee bit longer.’
She watched him go through to unlock the cell door. ‘He’s no my man,’ she said softly. Her man was at home, behind the bar of his public house, and he would be ready with his belt when he heard she’d given William Hardy an alibi for the previous night. Her heart felt heavy, she dreaded going home. But what else could she do? She couldn’t let Will go back to jail for the one crime he hadn’t committed. She went out into the sunshine to the little car she’d borrowed from the pub.
Dottie felt the nausea rising in her. How could someone sound so normal, so perfectly reasonable and yet be speaking words of madness?
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