Anna Sayburn Lane

Thriller author

News

Audiobooks!

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You can now take Marjorie Swallow with you on your morning commute! I’m in the process of recording audiobooks for the Marjorie Swallow series. My narrator Kim Bretton has done a brilliant job – I’m thrilled with how she’s brought the books to life. Why not give them a try? You can listen for free to the prequel, Murder At The Ritz.

Blackmail In Bloomsbury is out now in audiobook, and you can find it on Audible, Spotify or wherever you buy your audiobooks. The Soho Jazz Murders will follow in May, with Death At Chelsea coming in the summer.

Death on Fleet Street: out now!

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I’m thrilled to be publishing Death On Fleet Street today. It’s possibly my favourite yet of the Marjorie Swallow mysteries. I dug into my journalism background to research Fleet Street in the 1920s, and had great fun with all the characters. I celebrated the launch with friends at El Vino, a venerable Fleet Street wine bar that gets a mention in the book.

I hope you enjoy Death On Fleet Street as much as I enjoyed writing it. Don’t forget to leave a review!

February newsletter: Who murdered the media mogul? Extract from my new novel.

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Congratulations – you made it through January! I admit, I find the first month of the year a challenge. I love the cosiness of Christmas, but once the year has turned it feels like a long haul until spring. I’ve spent the month revising my new novel, making plans and doing a lot of reading. I’ve also indulged my love of flowers with some narcissi for my study, and enjoyed seeing these little cyclamen while out on a brisk, chilly walk in my 1920s-style cloche hat! What’s your top tip for keeping cheerful in gloomy weather?

Read on for more about my plans for audio books, recommendations for books, podcasts and television, and firstly, an exclusive extract from my new book, Death On Fleet Street, which will be published next month.

 

 

DEATH ON FLEET STREET: chapter one

Miss Beatrice Waddon breezed into the room like the figurehead of a ship, her noble brow and wide blue-grey eyes conveying a tremendous air of forward motion.

I jumped up from my desk to greet her. The young woman was the first proper client to have made an appointment at Mrs Jameson’s detective agency since Christmas, and I was keen to see what new adventure her arrival might bring.

‘Good morning. I’m Marjorie Swallow, Mrs Jameson’s secretary. Please, take a seat. I’ll let Mrs Jameson know you’re here.’

Miss Waddon shook my hand with a firm grip. ‘I appreciate you fitting me in at short notice, Miss Swallow. The matter is rather urgent.’

She wore a smart walking suit of tobacco-brown French serge, with jet beading at the collar and cuffs, and a rather chic black velvet hat. I felt rumpled by comparison, and pulled down my jacket sleeve to cover an ink splodge on the cuff of my blouse.

I ran to fetch Mrs Jameson from the drawing room, where she was reading The Times with a despondent air.

‘There you are, Marjorie. Has Miss Waddon arrived? Thank heavens. I am in severe need of distraction. The newspapers never have anything cheerful to report.’ Like me, Mrs Jameson thrived on a knotty investigation and got fretful between cases.

Unlike me, she looked as regal as Queen Mary as she entered the office, in a day dress of bottle-green cashmere with a matching turban.

‘Good morning, Miss Waddon. Marjorie, please ring for coffee. Now, how may we be of assistence?’

Miss Waddon picked up her handbag, snapped it open and withdrew a piece of paper, which she handed to my employer.

‘Please tell me what you think of this.’

Mrs Jameson read quickly, her fine grey eyes scanning the paper. She compressed her lips and handed it to me. ‘Marjorie?’

It was newspaper cutting, the ink slightly smudged on the soft paper. The headline read: ‘An unfortunate accident.’

‘Fleet Street was today plunged into mourning by the death of the popular newspaper proprietor Lord Ravensbourne, at the age of fifty one,’ I read. ‘The first Baron Ravensbourne is said to have suffered an unfortunate accident. His death, we understand, was instantaneous. He is survived by his second wife, Lady Ravensbourne (formerly Miss Annabel Quick) and his four children.’

I frowned. ‘It doesn’t say what the accident was.’ I raised my eyes to our visitor, puzzled. ‘I didn’t know Lord Ravensbourne was ead.’

‘He’s not,’ said Miss Waddon, crisply. ‘He’s my father. And that notice is dated one week from today.’

I checked. Monday, the twenty-fifth of February, 1924. As Miss Waddon said, a week away. A prickle ran up my neck. A death notice, one week early, of a man who was still very much alive…

Want to know what happens next? Death On Fleet Street will be published in March. Why not pre-order now?

Plans for 2025

I’ve wanted to make the Marjorie Swallow books available as audiobooks for a while, and I’m finally underway. My chosen narrator, Kim Bretton, is immensely experienced in audiobooks and loves cozy mysteries. Kim narrates Magda Alexander’s popular Kitty Worthington books, so she knows the 1920s period well. I hope to release Blackmail In Bloomsbury as an audiobook in March or April, with the others following on.

I’m starting research for the next Marjorie Swallow mystery now. I plan to publish three this year: Death On Fleet Street in March, then one in the summer and another just before Christmas.

I also plan to start work on a new short series of mysteries this year, set in a different historical period. I’m interested in the Regency, a short decade where a lot changed – a bit like the 1920s. I’m doing my research now, so I’ll let you know how I get on.

Recommendations

I was thrilled to be asked to join London tour guides Fiona and Alex on their Ladies Who London podcast. Ladies Who London takes a light-hearted look at some of the lesser known histories of the capital – I’m a big fan and recommend it to anyone who loves London and history. I was wearing another of my hats on this episode, as walk leader for the Refugee Tales walking project. This year we are walking around London on the Capital Ring route, so that was the focus of our talk – but we talked about writing, too! You can listen in here.

The book I’ve enjoyed most this year so far is also about London history. London Clay by Tom Chivers is a fascinating blend of geology, deep history, memoir and exploration. Tom tracks the routes of lost rivers, descends into the sewers, pokes around in the remains of London’s woodland and wetlands and communes with the spirits of Roman and medieval Londoners. It’s rather brilliant.

I’ve also enjoyed the second series of Lucy Worsley Investigates, where the historian takes a closer look at some of the better-known episodes of British history, from the Norman Conquest of 1066 to the Whitechapel murders attributed to ‘Jack the Ripper’. She uses modern historical techniques to question some of the myths about the subjects. I particularly liked her focus on the sensational reporting of the new mass media newspapers at the time of the Whitechapel murders, and how they fuelled the first ‘true crime’ obsession.

The big question!

What are your top tips for keeping cheerful when the weather (and the news) is gloomy? Hit reply and let me know! I’ll include a selection of ideas in my next newsletter.

Wishing you a fabulous February, and happy reading!

Podcast appearance: Ladies Who London

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I’m a big fan of London’s tour guides, so I was thrilled to be invited to be a guest on the Ladies Who London podcast, hosted by Blue Badge tour guides Alex and Fiona. The podcast takes a fun and informal look at people and places from London’s rich history.

They asked me on to talk about walking the Capital Ring, a round-London walking route which will be the focus of this year’s Refugee Tales project. I’ve been involved with this walking and storytelling project since 2017. We walk for five days each July in solidarity with people who’ve experienced immigration detention. This year we are holding a Festival of Walking at the same time, with arts events, film screenings, music and theatre as we walk our way around London.

I also managed to slip in a bit of chat about how London has inspired my books, from the first novel Unlawful Things to my more recent 1920s murder mysteries. Find out more here.

The Stories Behind the Story: Plant hunters

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Frank Kingdon-Ward, one of the inspirations behind Death At Chelsea, is the closest thing botany has to Indiana Jones. He was one of the last great explorers, seeking out the most remote regions and enduring hair-raising escapades in the search for new flora for British gardens.

Kingdon-Ward escaped death multiple times: when a tree fell on his tent; after impaling himself on a bamboo spike; clinging to a branch after falling over a precipice; drinking nectar from rhododendrons while lost for several days without food; surviving an earthquake; evading Japanese troops in China as a spy during the second world war… his writings read like the most thrilling of Boy’s Own adventures.

I learned about him after following up a mention in a gardening magazine about a 1920s gardener who had worked with a plant hunter while designing a garden for her aristocratic clients. Plant hunters travelled the globe looking for exotic species to bring back to the UK, where gardeners seized with delight on rhododendrons, azaleas, primulas, lilies and more. I was seeking inspiration for the plot of a novel to be set around the Chelsea Flower Show, to involve rival gardeners, sabotage of precious lilies and poisonous plants.  An intrepid plant hunter, I decided, was just the extra spice the story needed.

Kingdon-Ward, born in Manchester in 1885, was commissioned by a seed-grower to visit to Yunnan province, where he collected plants, seeds and bulbs, made drawings and took photographs. It was the first of 24 expeditions in a life of adventure.

His travels took him repeatedly to the mountains and valleys east of the Himalayas, crossing borders between south west China, north east India, Tibet, Bhutan, and Burma (now Myanmar). One of his most celebrated travels was to the steep and inhospitable Tsangpo Gorge, where the river slices through land held holy by Tibetan Buddhist pilgrims. This was where he discovered the Himalayan blue poppy and the Giant Tibetan Cowslip, among other finds.

He was still exploring at the age of 68, when he went climbing in Burma, only four years before his sudden death from a stroke.

I adapted Kingdon-Ward’s travels in Tibet for my fictional 1920s plant hunter, Ernest Buckler, who was a much nastier character than Kingdon-Ward had been! The blue poppies also influenced my imagining of the precious Himalayan Sapphire Lilies brought back from Tibet by Mr Buckler and his companions, due to be unveiled at the 1924 Chelsea Flower Show.

Mr Kingdon-Ward’s description of crossing vertiginous gorges by perilous rope bridges gave me an idea or two as well – but you’ll have to read the book to find out more!

To find out more about the hair-raising adventures of Kingdon-Ward, and the research I do for my novels, have a look at my Substack, The Stories Behind the Story.

The Stories Behind the Story: Venice

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If you enjoyed my Christmas story for newsletter subscribers, A  Venetian Masquerade, you might like to hear about the research behind it. The story was prompted by my favourite trip of 2024, a visit to the magical floating city of Venice. As the city shimmered from the waters of the lagoon and the vaporetto ferried us to the city, I fell under enchantment. I already knew I’d want to write about Venice one day.

Lots of details from that trip stayed with me and made it into the story. We ate chichetti and drank Campari spritz at a bar on the corner of Campo S. Toma, right next to a mask and carnival costume shop. I marvelled at the ornate costumes and masks, so beautiful and colourful. The idea of donning a mask and gliding through the city incognito immediately lodged in my mind.

I didn’t fix on the story I wanted to tell until I discovered that carnival season starts right after Christmas, on December 26, or St Stephen’s Day. Online research then told me that masks and gambling were associated with carnival, and masked gambling in ‘ridotto’ entertainments were only allowed during the carnival season.

I immediately wanted to see my redoubtable sleuth Mrs Jameson, newly married, unmask a card cheat. I knew she would learn something about her husband, perhaps something she didn’t want to know. And I liked the idea that masks came into it somehow, so decided to learn more about Venetian masks.

I remembered the close-fitting Volto masks, the classic full-faced masks, at the little shop in Campo San Toma, and the white Bauta masks, flared at the bottom to allow the wearer to eat and drink. The pretty Columbina masks are familiar from the Commedia dell’Arte , and I’d seen the sinister Medico della Peste, or plague doctor masks, with their long beaked nose.

But there was one mask I’d only seen in paintings of carnival – the Moretta. I found it shocking and rather horrible. It’s an oval mask, made of black velvet, with holes for eyes but no mouth. It has no ribbon, but it held in place by the woman (they are only worn by women) holding a button on the back in their teeth. Speak, and the mask falls.

The Moretta mask

To find out more about Venetian masks and see photographs from my trip, have a look at my Substack, The Stories Behind the Story.

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