Marjorie Swallow

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Well it’s been a bit of a scorcher here on the coast. But it’s a lovely place to be when the sun is out, there’s a fresh breeze blowing and the sea is warm enough for a proper swim. I’ve been making the most of the summer weather.

And talking of the heat rising, my beta readers have been hard at work on the new Marjorie Swallow mystery. There’s one question that’s been nagging at Marjorie since she began working for Mrs Jameson in book one of the series, Blackmail In Bloomsbury. What exactly happened in Rome – and how did Mrs Jameson’s husband die?

I’ve been dropping in teasers in all the 1920s Murder Mysteries, but it’s finally time to reveal the answers. Murder On The White Cliffs will explain everything!

In the words of one of my beta readers: “Loved it… It was so unbelievable that it was entirely believable!”

Another reader thinks it’s one of the best yet: “It has all the good things that we like from your books – glamorous location, Mrs J, Frankie and Marjorie and a fast-moving plot which keeps you guessing.”

Read on for an exclusive extract from the opening of the book, which will be published at the end of the month and is ready for pre-order now. (For those hoping to buy directly from me, it turns out that trying to set up an online store at the same time as finishing a book is a Bad Idea! I still plan to do this, but not yet.)

There are also recommendations for top summer reading, and news about a creative writing afternoon by the sea.

Murder on the White Cliffs: chapter one

‘Oi, Marge! There’s a nun in the office.’

I paused on my way up the stairs.

Frankie, Mrs Jameson’s chauffeur, was lounging in the hall in her smart uniform. She’d removed her peaked cap and was using it to fan herself. The day was already hot and sticky. I felt warm from my trip out to the Post Office, even though I was wearing my lightest cotton frock.

‘Really?’ We’d never had a nun as a client before. ‘When did she get here?’

I’d heard Frankie’s opinion of religion – ‘the opium of the people’ – and hoped she hadn’t felt the need to share it with the poor nun.

‘About half an hour ago. I picked her up from Victoria station, off the morning boat train. She’d been on the overnight sailing from Calais and looked pretty ropey. She’s Italian.’

Well, that was interesting. Ever since I started working for Mrs Jameson’s detective agency, almost two years ago, my employer had been getting regular letters with Italian stamps, post-marked in Rome, which she never spoke about. I dealt with the rest of her correspondence but had been taught on pain of extreme disapproval not to open anything from Italy.

Eagerly, I ran up the rest of the steps, tapped on the door of the agency and opened it. Was I finally going to discover the secret that Mrs Jameson had been keeping all this time?

‘Good morning.’ I crossed the big room with windows onto Bedford Square, where the July sun was dappling the dusty plane trees with gold. I reached for the pad on my desk to take down my usual shorthand note of proceedings, and smiled at our visitor. ‘I’m Miss Swallow, Mrs Jameson’s secretary.’

The nun wore a brown habit and white wimple, all traces of hair scraped away from her face. She appeared to be of middle age, and returned my smile with warm brown eyes, the same colour as her habit. I wondered why she wasn’t wearing black, like the nuns I’d seen in London. She was sitting in one of the green leather armchairs, tucking into a coffee éclair. My mouth watered and I checked the tray to see if Mrs Smithson, the cook, had put out enough for all of us.

Mrs Jameson looked up and I saw at once that she was annoyed. That was never a good start to the day. Her pale lips were pressed thinly together, and her grey eyes had a hooded aspect, like an eagle pausing before it pounced on some unwary rodent.

‘Marjorie, please wait downstairs. I wish to speak to Sister Agnese privately.’ Her American accent was sharper than normal.

Bother. It looked like I wasn’t going to crack the mystery that day.

‘Of course.’ I set my things down and made my retreat.

* * *

Want to read on? Murder On The White Cliffs is available to pre-order now.

Audiobooks

I’m pleased to say the audiobook of The Soho Jazz Murders is out on Audible now and will be in all the usual stores soon. Kim Bretton has done a brilliant job. I didn’t realise until I listened to the audiobook what a challenge I’d set her, with lots of different characters and accents. I’m delighted with how she rose to the challenge, and I think the finished book is entertaining and fun. Do give it a try.

Don’t forget you can download the free audiobook of my novella, Murder At The Ritz, and listen to Kim’s narration for yourself!

 

 

 

Recommendations

Laura Tong, one half of the husband-and-wife writing partnership Verity Bright, sadly died in a car accident recently. Her husband Mark intends to continue publishing the books they had completed together before Laura’s death.

The first of these is Death At A Paris Hotel, the 22nd book to feature sleuth Lady Eleanor Swift. Here’s the blurb:

For Lady Eleanor Swift, Paris means champagne at breakfast, romantic walks by the Eiffel Tower… and her deadliest case yet!

Newlyweds Lady Swift and Detective Hugh Seldon are honeymooning in the most romantic city on earth. Clifford, her butler, has come along for the trip to make sure everything goes to plan for the happy couple. And Gladstone, the mischievous bulldog, to make sure it doesn’t!

But the pair are shocked when, just as they are toasting their new marriage at the best table in their hotel’s opulent restaurant, a man tumbles through the glass roof and lands amid the silverware and coq au vin. Before he dies, he presses a striking pearl brooch into Eleanor’s hands. She has the strangest feeling of déjà vu. Has she met this man before? All too quickly, the local police arrive and immediately accuse the new Mr and Mrs of working with the victim – a thief who’d just robbed the museum down the block.

A word from Mark about the book: “This will obviously be the first book of Laura’s to be published after she passed away. She was really looking forward to this one being published, she had so much fun researching it in Paris, then Auvers sur Oise, where Van Gogh passed his last days.”

I can thoroughly recommend the Lady Eleanor books. Mark and Laura have been very kind to me as a new author in the historical mystery genre, and I am desperately sad at Laura’s death.

Magda Alexander has a new book in her Kitty Worthington cozy caper series, which published at the end of June. The Case of the Missing Dancer sounds most intriguing! Here’s the blurb:

London, 1924. Just before the King’s Theatre is set to debut its most anticipated ballet, the leading dancer disappears without a trace. Without her, the entire production may be cancelled. Desperate, the ballet master turns to Kitty Worthington for help.

Drawn into the shadowy world of London’s ballet scene, Kitty uncovers a tangle of ambition, secrecy, and danger—where every plié hides a deeper deception. As the trail leads to a criminal enterprise with ties to the missing dancer’s past, Kitty must act quickly.

Because if she fails, the curtain won’t rise at all.

The big question!

Living by the coast, my favourite way to cope with a heatwave is to go for a swim in the sea. The UK isn’t well set up for hot weather, and most of us don’t have air conditioning in our homes. So this week, my question for you is: What’s your top tip for staying cool in the heat?

The best answer (that doesn’t involve air con) will win a signed paperback of Murder On The White Cliffs.

Wishing you a jolly July, and happy reading!