Katharine Johnson's Blog, page 14
May 29, 2018
Meet the characters from The Secret: Irena
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Continuing the introductions to the residents of Santa Zita, here’s Irena.
Irena is born on 28th October 1922, the same day as Martina, her best friend, and the day of Mussolini’s March on Rome.
The village in which Irena grew up is small but vibrant. There’s always something going on – processions, dances, festivals, a cinema under the stars in the piazza and meals to celebrate the olive, chestnut and grape harvests. On Santa Zita’s day in April the village is full of flowers to commemorate their saint.
(Santa Zita was a servant who stole bread from the kitchen to give the poor. When her Master accosted her and made her show him what she was hiding in her apron the bread turned into flowers.)
At the heart of the village is a restaurant run by two brothers with terrible tempers but whose cooking is sublime and draws people from miles around.
Irena spends her early years playing skipping rope games and hop scotch in the piazza or catching tiny frogs down at the river. One Christmas the Befana Fascista brings her and Martina identical dolls and they played with them for hours, pushing them around the village in their prams.
Her ambition as a child is to be a good wife and mother. As part of Mussolini’s Battle for Births women are encouraged to have at least four children and motherhood is seen as almost saintly.
Irena and Martina often talk lazily about Villa Leonida, the big house at the top of the village, and what it would be like to live there but never seriously imagine that either of them would. At least Irena never does.
But she begins to worry that she might not ever find anyone to marry her. She can’t hope to compete with Martina in terms of beauty, boldness or athleticism so she’d better have something to fall back on. She reads everything she can get her hands on and her friends called her the Encyclopaedia because of all the facts she’s able to come out with. Each book is like being given a key to a different world. If she never moves out of Santa Zita she thinks it wouldn’t matter because in books she’s been everywhere.
But when Martina marries and moves into Villa Leonida Irena feels left as though she’s had a limb amputated. Becoming a teacher gives her a new focus – but she worries about the people Martina’s living with and the way her friend seems to be changing. And then those rumours start about Martina’s husband…
In later years Irena resents her son Carlo digging into the past. Why can’t he leave it where it belongs?
Meet the characters from The Secret – Carlo
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With Publication Day for The Secret fast approaching this Friday 1st June, I’d like to introduce some of the characters.
Carlo was born in 1945.
He lives with his mother Irena, his father having been killed in the war. Irena’s always busy in the kitchen and Carlo helps her, listening to her stories and watching her as she works and stealing a taste when she’s not looking.
Irena uses herbs for healing and knows remedies for all sorts of ailments. Carlo sometimes listens in on her consultations although he’s not supposed to.
Carlo and his friends feel like shadows growing up in Santa Zita. They keep out of the way of adults who look like crows because they’re always dressed in black. The children are aware their presence is painful to these people.
He and his friends are frightened of Martina. They know she’s done something very bad and her scarred face sends chills down his spine. He feels sorry for Sonia, Martina’s daughter but how can he ask Sonia to join in their games when so many of the games involve dodging her mother?
He knows there was a time before the war when the village had been thriving. He’s heard the stories about the restaurant, how it used to attract people from miles around.
Throughout his childhood the restaurant, along with the shop, bar and gelateria are all boarded up ghosts of buildings. The population dwindles every year.
Many of the houses around are empty too. Some have been reclaimed by nature. Others make fabulous dens for Carlo and his teenage friends.
His favourite of these is Villa Leonida.
But at 20 years old he sees no future for the village. So he’s excited to be given the opportunity to get out of Santa Zita and join his uncle in America.
He makes a success of things, rising to be head of a news empire. And yet there’s one story he’s never got to the bottom of – one that draws him back to Santa Zita in old age. As a child he was too scared to ask about the terrible event that happened in the village during the war. But he’s made a living out of asking difficult questions. And now that his mother’s showing signs of dementia he fears there will soon be no one left who can give him the answers.
Why did Martina betray the village, which led to the appalling incident? And why did his own mother, who’s never until now admitted to being Martina’s best friend, do nothing to stop her?
http://mybook.to/thesecretjohnson
Publication Day review – The Angel Makers by Tessa Harris
It’s Publication Day for The Angel Makers, the second in the Constance Piper mystery series. If you love Victorian crime with a touch of paranormal you won’t want to miss this!
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Tessa Harris’s 18th century Thomas Silkstone anatomist apprentice series has been hugely popular. Fans of Silkstone will love the Constance Piper stories too. Constance is a flower girl in the dark, dangerous streets of London where Jack the Ripper casts his shadow. She’s a strong, likeable character who’s determined to see justice done.
Constance links the mysterious death of her friend Catherine Mylett, a young prostitute, shortly after Cath gave up her baby for adoption, with baby farmer Mother Delaney.
The story’s told in two narrative viewpoints: Constance’s and Emily’s, a murder victim who guides her from beyond the grave, which given the strong interest among Victorians in clairvoyance makes perfect sense.
This is a chilling, intriguing and atmospheric tale – and all the more so when you consider that baby farming really did go on and this story was inspired by real baby farmer, Amelia Dyer.
It captures the desperation many women must have felt at a time when no assistance was given to unmarried mothers and a terrible social stigma attached to them and the double standards that existed.
Although I’d recommend reading the first book which introduces Constance and Emily, this story works fine as a standalone.
I was gripped to the end – where there’s a twist I bet you won’t see coming!
The Angel Makers is published by Kensington Books and is available in hardback £19.55 and Kindle £10.44
About the author
[image error]Tessa Harris is author of the acclaimed Thomas Silkstone Mysteries. An Oxford graduate with a History degree, she’s been a journalist and editor contributing to many national publications including The Times and The Telegraph.
http://www.tessaharrisauthor.com/
May 28, 2018
Wartime Secrets in Tuscany: an Interview with Katharine Johnson
It was so lovely to be a guest of Vanessa Couchman today and chat about writing a wartime story
I’m delighted to welcome back Katharine Johnson, whose historical mysteries make engrossing reading. She’s already told us a little about her latest novel, The Secret, when it was a work in progress. Now, publication day is approaching on 1st June, and I’m looking forward to The Secret popping onto my Kindle that day. The book blurb tells you more about it below. In the meantime, Katy whets our appetite with some insights into the inspiration behind the book and the history on which it’s based.
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May 27, 2018
Countdown to Publication Day
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It’s five more sleeps until Publication Day for The Secret.
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And I’m getting ready for the Online Launch Party
on Friday 1st June – hope you can make it!
In the morning I’ll be announcing the winner of the preorder draw. There’s still time to enter for an Italy-related prize by ordering before Friday http://mybook.to/thesecretjohnson
Once you’ve placed an order just let me know and I’ll add your name to the sorting hat.
The winner will be selected by my trusty PA [image error]
There will be more prizes throughout the day plus information about the book and the Italian setting, fun competitions and conversations and awesome author visits.
The theme is Secrets so be prepared for some revelations!
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If you haven’t been to an Online Launch before, it’s a chance to find out more about the book but mostly for me to thank everyone who’s supported my writing and for us all to have some fun.
It takes place on Facebook. You can join by just clicking the blue link above. Select Discussion to see all the posts. You can join in as much or as little as you like.
Bring some virtual food and/or drink [image error], leave comments, share secrets, enter the competitions or leave a question for the Live Q&A from 7-8pm.
Or just sit and watch if that’s what you prefer.
All from the comfort of your desk or sofa.
The launch starts at 1pm. Visit the event now to see the schedule. The page will be left open for 24 hours so if you can’t make it on Friday or you live in a different timezone you can always catch up on posts and enter the competitions later.
Or if you’re not a Facebook user you should still be able to view the event but you can also contact me with your comments/questions on katy@espressomedia.net
Did you know the paperback is already available?
If you send me a picture of you (or your pet or other representative) with the book you’ll be entered for another prize.
But I can’t tell you what it is – that’s a secret!
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Book review: The Healer’s Secret by Helen Pryke
Continuing my series of reviews of books I’ve enjoyed in-situ, I took The Healer’s Secret by Helen Pryke with me to read while staying in the Garfagnana region of Tuscany. It turned out to be a perfect choice.
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I love books about dark family secrets so was immediately drawn to this one. It’s a powerful, enchanting, unsettling but ultimately uplifting read that deals with some difficult subjects and achieves a perfect balance between light and dark.
I was totally absorbed by the tangled lives of the Innocenti family and Jennifer, the troubled young woman who finds herself caught up in their story. In order to blot out the pain of a series of miscarriages Jennifer’s turned to drink which has led to her being fired from her job and brought her marriage to the brink of collapse. As a last resort her mother persuades her to go over to Italy and stay in the ancestral cottage to get away from her problems and discover her Italian roots.
There she becomes intrigued by her ancestor’s role as a healer. But a grim discovery in the garden hints at a disturbing secret the family is unwilling to share. In unpicking the history, Jennifer uncovers some shocking truths – but in doing so she’s also rebuilding her life.
Reading this book in Italy, I could easily imagine the story taking place around me. The beauty and mystery of the area around Gallicano lends itself perfectly to the story and the descriptions bring it to life.
My rating: 5 stars
May 23, 2018
Character interview: DS Coupland talks to his author Emma Salisbury
I’m thrilled to be taking part in the blog tour for Absent by Emma Salisbury today.
DS Coupland from Salford Precinct station stepped out of the pages of the new book to have a chat with his author:
‘Hey Coup, what’ve you been up to?’
‘Never mind that, mine’s a pint.’
I signal to the bartender to bring another one over and a brandy and lemonade for me. Coupland rolls his eyes. ‘Since when did you turn into a big girl’s blouse?’
‘I can’t do the hard stuff straight anymore, makes me see double.’
‘So that’s where I’ve been going wrong all these years,’ he observes, gulping down the dregs in his glass as the bartender replaces our drinks, ‘and to think I’ve been blaming it on the cheap underpants Lynn buys me off her mate at work.’
‘So what have you got planned for Saturday?’ I ask, already guessing his answer.
‘Bugger all,’ he grins, ‘watching the footy on the box,’
‘And Lynn?’
‘She can watch it if she wants, as long as she doesn’t keep asking me bloody questions. Last time she watched United play Ryan Giggs had just been signed, she’ll want a running commentary on who’s playing for them now.’
‘Surely she’ll be too busy watching repeats of the wedding,’ I laugh.
‘Let’s hope so,’ he harrumphs, ‘She’s off buying enough prosecco for half a dozen nurses coming round after their shift. Told her Tesco’s stock isn’t big enough. She’s picking me up on the way home.’
‘Sounds like you’ll be outnumbered.’
Coupland shakes his head. ‘Nah, thought I’d treat the cup final as a team building exercise. Ashcroft, Turnbull and Robinson are coming over. Turnbull’s got a real girlfriend this time, one that’s not inflatable; she’s going to be the taxi.’
‘What about Krispy?’
‘Depends on whether his mam’ll let him out.’
‘And Alex?’
Coupland screwed up his face, ‘You should have heard what she said when I suggested this could be an away day. Says she’d rather spend the day elbow deep in nappies.’
‘Maybe she’s got a point.’
‘Charmed, I’m sure.’ Coupland says. ‘And you?’
‘It’s publication day,’ I remind him.
His face lights up. ‘I knew I’d put a knot in the DCI’s tie for a reason,’ he says, raising his hand to get the eye of the guy behind the bar, ‘Worthy of another tipple, if you ask me.’ He looks at me with a gleam in his eye, ‘How about I push the boat out and get us pork scratchings?’ he smiles.
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About the book
The worst things happen in plain sight.
When he stopped a serial killer in his tracks earlier in the year he thought that would be the end of it, but for DS Kevin Coupland his nightmare has just begun.
A child’s body is discovered hidden in a bag, kicking off a major investigation for Salford Precinct’s murder squad. Soon the National Crime Agency roll into town and Coupland is under strict instructions to play nice.
He’s got enough on his plate to worry about politics. A shock discovery in his personal life is starting to take its toll, causing him to make decisions that bring him to the attention of the powers that be for all the wrong reasons.
DS Alex Moreton returns from maternity leave to find her partner deeply troubled, but with a cold case to review she’s in no position to prevent him hitting the self-destruct button.
As he hunts down the child’s killer Coupland is forced to reflect upon his own life and find an answer to the question he’s been avoiding. Is it possible to accept the things you cannot change?
If this has made you want to read the book, it’s available in paperback £7.99 or ebook £1.99 here
[image error] About the author
Emma Salisbury writes gritty crime fiction that focuses on the ‘why’dunnit as well as the ‘who’. She’s worked for a housing association supporting ex-offenders into work which provided her with a lot of inspiration. Her novels have regularly been in the top ten Hardboiled chart and she’s been awarded an Amazon All-Star bonus for being one of their most read authors.
For more information – including author interviews and excerpts follow the blog tour
May 22, 2018
Excerpt: Her Secret by Kelly Florentia
Today’s my turn on the blog tour for Her Secret, the sequel to No Way Back, by Kelly Florentia
I’m really enjoying this book and so excited to be able to share an excerpt with you.
But first here are a few things people have been saying about it:
“A brilliantly woven tale of love, friendship, heartbreak and hope – I couldn’t put it down.” Jill Finlay, Fiction Editor of The Weekly News
“A must-read for anyone who loves intelligent, grown-up romance” Louise Douglas, best-selling author of The Secrets Between Us
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The story:
Following the events of No Way Back, Her Secret sees our heroine, Audrey Fox, now married to Daniel. But Daniel’s grown-up daughter Connie is still causing trouble in paradise and it’s not long before Audrey is neck-deep in secrets and lies, and once more searching for true love and happiness.
Her Secret is the brilliant third novel of up-and-coming chick lit author Kelly Florentia. Perfect for fans of Fiona Gibson, Marian Keyes, Sheila O’Flanagan and Lisa Jewell, it is a wonderful contemporary adult romance.
Excerpt
HER SECRET
CHAPTER 2
“WHAT A DAY,” Daniel says, an hour later, shuffling into the
lounge. “What’s for dinner? Smells great.”
I dart a glance at him as I drizzle olive oil over the salad. He
looks whacked. His eyes are puffy and his usually smooth face
is shadowed with a dark stubble, which actually quite suits him.
“Only M&S food heated up, I’m afraid.” It’s what we usually have
but I always feel compelled to give him an excuse for my lack of
culinary skills. I’m not the best cook in the world but I am trying.
“Didn’t have time for anything else, work was manic today, and
the traffic was heaving. Bloody tube strike.”
Mumbling a reply, he dumps his briefcase on the sofa, frowning
at some paperwork. I hate it when he does this and he knows it
– that briefcase has been on all sorts of surfaces today; it’s full
of germs. But now is not a good time to remind him, not when
he’s clearly got a grump on, and not when I’ve got more pressing
things on my mind.
I feel his hand on the small of my back as I pour the wine. “Ah,
Malbec, my favourite. What would I do without you?” He goes to
kiss me, but, still irritated by this morning, I turn away, pretending
to be distracted by a cat that’s just leapt over the garden fence, and
the moment is gone. He knows I’m annoyed with him, anyway; he
wouldn’t have sent me the flowers if he thought I hadn’t noticed
his slip up. He’s the most perceptive man I know. I decide very
quickly that there’s no point in beating around the bush.
“Daniel, about this morning,” I begin, wiping my hands on a
tea towel.
“This morning?” Pulling a chair out, he settles down at the table
and throws his red silk tie over his shoulder, tucking a napkin in to
the collar of his white shirt.
“Yes, this morning,” I reply crisply, pulling out a chair opposite
him. “We need to talk about it, clear the air.” A tiny fly hovers in
front of my face and I bat it away with my hand.
“Er…the last time I looked at my C.V. it said Property Developer
not Psychic.”
I close my eyes for a moment, breathing in the aroma of garlic
bread, as he fiddles around with his cutlery. He’s doing this on
purpose but I’m really not in the mood for his sarcasm. This isn’t
going to go away. I can’t stop thinking about it. “Come on, Daniel,
you know what I mean.” I exhale loudly through my nose. “What
happened in bed this morning – what you said.”
He raises an eyebrow suggestively, a wicked grin on his lips. “It
was great, wasn’t it? I love morning sex.” He looks at me beneath
dark lashes, his blue eyes as deep and seductive as the evening sea.
“You’re such a minx.”
Okay, any other time I’d lap up all this flirty talk, but his
evasiveness is starting to irritate me now. “About what you said
this morning while you were…you know.” I rotate my hand in the
air. “While we were…”
“While we were?” He eyes me over his wine glass. “Mmm…this
wine is fantastic, Waitrose?”
“No, I bought it from Tesco, actually. Look,” I tut, “stop trying to
change the subject. This is important. You called out Sophie while
we were having sex.” My cheeks burn when I say it.
Taking another sip of wine, he stares at his food, hand loosely
clenched on the table, wedding band gleaming. “I know and I’m
sorry.” He pauses, looks at the tulips on the sideboard. “I thought
that’s what upset you this morning.” Avoiding eye contact, he
reaches for the gold rimmed Royal Albert salad bowl decorated
with red and yellow roses. A wedding gift from my friend Louise.
“It won’t happen again,” he says, as if calling out another woman’s
name while having sex is nothing more than a minor blip.
I look at him incredulously. “And is that it?”
He shrugs his shoulders and gives me one of his looks, as if I’m
being unreasonable. “Well, what else do you want me to say?” He
piles salad onto my plate before serving himself.
I spear a cherry tomato. “Well, an explanation would be nice.”
Exhaling loudly, he rubs his lips, elbow on table, all the while
regarding me. “Okay, look, don’t take this the wrong way.” Fuck. I hate sentences that start off like this, because I almost always take it the wrong way. “Well, I was dreaming about Sophie before you
rolled on top of me, and it just came out. I’m sorry,” he says, then
picks up his cutlery and continues eating. His words are like a low
blow and I struggle to hide the shock that cuts through me.
“What sort of dream was it? A sex dream?”
“No,” he says sharply, “most definitely NOT. In fact, I haven’t
dreamt of her in years. It’s all this business with Connie that’s
dragged it all up.” Connie, Daniel’s grownup daughter, recently
found out that Daniel’s second wife, Aliki, isn’t her birth mother.
Naturally, she wants to find her biological family; find out where
she came from. I must admit, it has been a struggle, because,
hard as they try, all they seem to do is hit a brick wall. It’s as if the
Coopers have been zapped off the face of the universe. “I’m sorry
if I upset you, darling.” He tears a piece off the garlic baguette.
A few crumbs drop onto the wooden table and I’m immediately
irritated. I’m a tidy freak and don’t like seeing things out of place,
especially when I’m stressed. “It really was an unconscious thing,”
he says matter-of-factly.
I’m actually a bit lost for words. I didn’t expect him to be so
stark. I cut hard into a piece of lasagne. The table, which has a
piece of paper under one of the dodgy legs, shakes and the crumbs
bounce. “Well, I flipping hope not. Talk about a passion killer.” I’m
not a vain person and I’ve never thought of myself as beautiful,
but this has never happened to me before, and, if I’m completely
honest, it has knocked my confidence a bit.
We eat in silence for a few moments, cutlery tapping against
china; and then he points his knife at me, grinning, “You’re not
jealous, are you?” he asks, and I almost choke on a mouthful of
food.
“What? Of a corpse?” Sophie’s been dead for twenty-eight years.
“It just felt weird, that’s all. As if….I dunno, you weren’t with me…
mentally, I mean.”
He laughs, a hiss through his nose. “Don’t be silly, Cinderella.
You’re the love of my life. I’m crazy about you, you know that. Oh,
come on, Audrey, don’t look at me like that. You’re overreacting,”
he says, shaking his head. “That’ll teach you for jumping on me
while I’m still asleep.”
“Hmm…” I murmur, twisting my lips. He was in a deep sleep,
I suppose, and I did wake him. Maybe I am overreacting. Besides,
I dream about Nick sometimes – not having sex with him or
anything. Just random, weirdy dreams. Actually, they’re more like
nightmares, because I have woken up in a sweat once or twice.
But then it is still all a bit raw for me, given that I was planning
on eloping with him four months ago. “Okay,” I sigh, “Let’s just
forget it.”
“Already have,” he smiles, chewing. I stare at a spot of lasagne
sauce on his chin and cringe. “Actually.” He lifts the napkin and
pats his mouth. Phew. “I’ve got a little surprise for you. I was going
to save it for the weekend but….well, I think you could do with a
bit of cheering up now.”
Another surprise? My eyes widen. “Oh,” I say, feeling a flutter
of excitement. I knew the flowers couldn’t be it. I wonder if he’s
booked us a romantic weekend away somewhere. I saw him
searching for city breaks on his MacBook the other day. Or maybe
it’s those Prada shoes I was eyeing in a shop window on Hampstead
High Street last week when I met him for lunch. “What is it?” I ask,
unable to kerb the slight hysteria in my voice.
Glancing over my shoulder, he chews on his food, grinning.
I twist in my seat, following his gaze, as if I have some kind of
super vision that can see around corners and into the hallway. I
bet he’s hidden them behind the coat stand. “Well, come on then,
the suspense is killing me.”
“I’ve bought us a house,” he says, gesticulating towards the sofa
with his head, “Paperwork is on the table.”
“What, a house to let?” I smile. Daniel is building a portfolio for
us, says it’s to secure our future.
“No, for us to live in. We move in in six weeks.”
Ten minutes later we’re in the kitchen still arguing about the house
purchase. How could he have gone ahead and bought a house,
even paid a deposit, without consulting me first? Without even
discussing it with me?
“But you said you’d like somewhere bigger one day.”
“Yes, Daniel, one day,” I explain, loading a plate into the
dishwasher. “Next year, maybe, or the year after that. Not now.
And when the time comes I’d like us to choose a home together.”
Leaning against the worktop, he nods, says he understands,
admits he got it wrong this time. “I messed up. I’m sorry. Friends
again?”
I stop loading and straighten up. “And I’m sorry too. For
shouting,” I say in a little voice, because somehow I now feel like
a complete ungrateful cow. “It’s just that you took me by surprise,
that’s all. This is a big decision. But I know you meant well.”
“Oh, come here.” He pulls me into his arms and I breathe in his
musky scent. “What’re we like, eh?”
Guilt finds its way into my stomach and twists. Daniel was
there for me when Nick left me. And, despite everything, despite
choosing Nick over him when I was faced with a choice, he still
stood by me, gave me a second chance. That’s true love, isn’t it?
I know I have some panicky, wobbly moments sometimes, and
question whether marrying him after only a couple of months of
dating was a bit rushed, like the author of comment 8 on Vicky’s
meme. But deep down I know, without a doubt, that marrying
Daniel is the best decision I ever made. I’ve really landed on
my feet with him. He’s given me stability, love, security. I want
for nothing. And now I’ve caused our first fight by lashing out
on him for trying to improve our lives. But in my defence, I did
spend eight years with a man who used to call me from Tesco’s to
ask what type of salad bag to buy. I’m not used to a man holding
the reins, and, if I’m honest, I’m not sure I like it. Clearly, this is
something we’ll have to iron out.
I pull away from him, switch the dishwasher on, then pad
into the living room. “It’s just that I love living here,” I complain
sulkily. “I’m a MuswellHillBilly.” I bought my flat at a rock-bottom
price because it needed work. I enjoyed every moment of the
renovations. In fact, if I wasn’t a web designer I think I’d have
chosen interior design. “It’s my home.”
“Exactly,” he says, emptying the last dregs of the wine between
two glasses. “Your home, not ours. I mean, this place is great.”
He waves his arm around the room, the wine sloshes in his glass.
“But I want us to have a family home together. Our home. A fresh
start…away from…” he falters.
Away from memories of my past, that’s what he was going to
say. But I can’t erase the history from my life with a few clicks of a
mouse. I didn’t come with a squeaky clean past, I’m afraid. But he
does have a point. I wouldn’t like it if we lived in Aliki’s house. I
feel myself mellow – red wine always does this to me, before giving
me a stinking headache, that is.
“I’m not selling it,” I say indignantly, running a hand along the
oak fireplace.
“You don’t have to,” he says quickly, pleased that I’m coming
round to the idea of moving. “This flat is yours. You can rent it
out if you like, that’ll pay the mortgage for you. You can even stop
working.”
“No way,” I stop and look up at him sharply. “I love my job.”
The security that Daniel has given me is incredible, but I won’t be
a kept woman.
“Yes, I know you do, but I’m just saying you could if you
wanted, that’ll all. It’s an option.” He sits on the armrest of the sofa
and grabs the A4 folder off the coffee table. “Look, it’s a lovely
house, Audrey.” He starts flicking through the paperwork. “You
won’t believe how much I got the vendor to drop in price.” Daniel’s
speciality – buy low, sell high. “He’s selling it for his old man, their
moving him into a flat. You know, the ones with a warden.”
“Where you wear one of those alarm thingies around your
neck?”
He nods and my heart sinks, poor thing. I’d never let my
parents live in assisted care. I’d sooner move them in with me.
Maybe a house isn’t such a bad idea. I have got an extended family
now. Connie and her six-year-old daughter, Lily, have to share a
bed whenever they stay over. And my parents aren’t getting any
younger. Perhaps Daniel’s right; this flat was great when I was
single, but now…
I clear my throat. “Where is it, then?”
“Highgate,” he says, giving me one of his signature lopsided
grins.
“I love it there,” I say, peering at the paper over his shoulder,
lips jutted.
“I know. I do listen to you, you know.”
Leaning forward, I rest my arm on his shoulder and tuck my
hair behind my ear, “Is it close to the village?” I squint at the paper
in his hand, feeling the warmth of his face close to mine, but all I
can see is a blur. I must get myself some contact lenses, Daniel says
they’re brilliant.
“Just around the corner,” he grins and my eyes light up. “You’ll
love it, Audrey.” I’m already loving it. I wonder if it’s near all
the shops and restaurants. “It’s got four double bedrooms,” he
enthuses. “Lots of room for when your parents visit from Cyprus,
or when the kids stay over. A huge kitchen diner that leads onto
a conservatory, and a beautiful hundred-and-fifty foot garden.
Imagine the fun your nephews and Lily will have playing in the
summer.” Nathan and Josh are only toddlers, but ten-year-old
Florian would love a big garden to kick a ball about, given that
they live in a small flat above a fish and chip shop in Archway.
But a garden isn’t really a major attraction for me. I’m only good
with house plants, and preferably ones that don’t mind being
ignored.
“I’m not into gardening, Daniel, you know that.” I watch as he
licks his index finger and noisily leafs through paper after paper,
then he jabs his thumb in the direction of the patio doors, his eyes
not leaving the sheet in his hand, “You’ve done all right with this
one.”
Getting to my feet, I stretch my back, “I didn’t do it. It was…” I
falter, rubbing my neck as I slowly walk towards the patio doors.
The garden is small and mostly decked, with a bit of green in the
middle and plants on both sides, and an apple tree right at the
back. Nick did all the gardening for me. He’s got green fingers,
but I don’t think now is the good time to bring up it up. I don’t
want to ruin the moment. Daniel gets tetchy when I mention exboyfriends.
“I had a landscaper in when I first bought it,” I lie, and suddenly
I picture Nick standing on the lawn in his wellies digging and
weeding and anger burns in my chest. I close my eyes, batting
the image away. “It’s south facing, so gets lots of sunshine,” I say
cheerily as I cross the room and pick up the empties. “All I ever
do is water the plants.” Whenever I remember, that is, which is
hardly ever.
Daniel nods at the tulips on the sideboard, smiling. “They’re
gorgeous, by the way, beautiful colour.”
“Yes,” I say, realising that I haven’t even bothered to thank him
for them. “They’re…”
“Did you buy them from that florist on Fortis Green,” he cuts
in. He gets to his feet and starts rolling up the sleeve of his brilliant
white shirt. “They do great bouquets there, don’t they? Although
I hardly ever buy you flowers.” He scrunches his nose, making a
start on the other sleeve. “I ought to really as you like them so
much, but I much prefer to buy you shoes,” he grins, pinching my
noise. “My Cinderella. Just think, if you’d not lost your shoe at
the restaurant in Larnaca, our paths may never have crossed.” He
makes it sound like a fairy-tale, but I actually got pissed and fell
onto his lap trying to do the Zorba, during which I lost my shoe.
He found it after I’d gone home and handed it in. “Audrey? You
okay, darling? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Yes,” I manage, feeling my blood run cold, “I’m sorry. It’s the
wine. I think it’s gone to my head. You know what I’m like with
red.” I force a smile as my heart bounces around in my chest. If
Daniel didn’t buy me the flowers, it can only mean one thing.
“What after a couple of glasses? Not like you.” Grabbing the
bottle by the neck, he holds it at arm’s length and frowns at the
label. “Ah, 14%, strong stuff. Look, I’ll wash these up,” Daniel offers,
taking the crystal glasses from my hands. “Your Soaps should be
starting soon. Why don’t you just put your feet up?”
He pads into the kitchen humming under his breath, and I sigh
with relief, glad to be alone with my thoughts. I glance at the tulips
as if they’re poisoning the air, then as I switch on the T.V., I notice
that my hand is trembling. Shit. SHIT! I need to calm down and
stop jumping to conclusions. “Corrie’s about to finish,” I yell with
a shaky voice, “I’ll watch it on Catch-up but EastEnders will be
starting soon. I can…..” Then as I take a step back towards the
sofa, I feel Daniel’s arms around my waist and I jump.
“Never mind East bloody Enders. Fancy a shower?” he
whispers, kissing my neck. His breath is warm and soft against
my skin. “What’s wrong with you, hmm? You’re in knots,” he says,
massaging my shoulders. “You’re not still upset about the house
move, are you? Because I can…”
“No, it’s not that,” I cut in. “I’ve had a crap day…I’m…”
“Dr Taylor has something that can magically cure crap day
syndrome,” he groans. “Did you know that?” His tongue flicks
against my earlobe and I feel myself stir.
But the moment my eyes close, the card attached to the tulips
flashes in my mind – Whatever I’ve done. I’m sorry. X. Shit, they
could be from anyone. I’m overreacting. I stroke Daniels thigh,
desperate for diversion. He tugs at my cream blouse, planting hot
kisses on the back of my neck. One hand unzips my skirt, the other
makes its way up my torso. Maybe they were delivered by mistake.
“You’re so sexy when you’re angry,” he murmurs. “It’s those dark,
sultry eyes of yours.” They might be for Margaret upstairs, or sour
faced bin sergeant next door, although who in their right mind
would buy her flowers? “Are you sure you haven’t got a bit of
Spanish in you?”
“No,” I reply, how many times are you going to ask me that
question? I’m English through and through.” George and I
have taken after my mum’s side of the family. They’ve all got a
Mediterranean look about them. “I’m beginning to think you’re
obsessed with Spanish women,” I say softly. He unbuttons my
blouse slowly and I close my eyes, TulipGate fading, fading,
fading away. “Daniel,” I whisper, opening my eyes briefly. “I’ve
still…” and just then I catch sight of a black four-by-four crawling
outside my flat through the bay window. Daniel’s grip tightens as
I try to wriggle free. “Who the –” But before I can finish, he spins
me around and silences me with a long, hard kiss. Then all I can
hear is the theme tune to EastEnders and the loud growl of a car
zooming off into the distance.
Where to buy
If this has made you want to read more, the book’s available here in paperback £8.99
and kindle 99p
ISBN 9781911583684
Genre: women’s fiction; contemporary fiction; adult romance; chick lit
About the author
[image error]Kelly Florentia was born and bred in north London where she continues to live with her husband Joe. Her debut novel The Magic Touch was published in March 2016. TO TELL A TALE OR TWO is a collection of her short tales. Kelly has a keen interest in health and fitness and has written many articles on the subject. SMOOTH OPERATOR (published in January 2017) is a collection of twenty of her favourite smoothie recipes. No Way Back was published by Urbane in Sept 2017.
To find out more about Kelly and her book follow the blog tour!
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May 20, 2018
Author Q&A with Joan Livingston
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Today I’m so pleased to welcome fellow Crooked Cat author Joan Livingston, whose brand new crime novel Chasing the Case was published last Friday (18th May). I can’t wait to start reading it – here’s a bit about the book:
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How does a woman disappear in a town of a thousand people? That’s a 28-year-old mystery Isabel Long wants to solve.
Isabel has the time given she just lost her husband and her job as the managing editor of a newspaper. (Yes, it’s been a bad year.) And she’s got a Watson — her 92-year-old mystery-loving mother who lives with her.
To help her case, Isabel takes a job at the local watering hole, so she can get up close and personal with those connected to the mystery.
As a journalist, Isabel never lost a story she chased. Now, as an amateur P.I., she’s not about to lose this case.
Here’s the link to buy Chasing the Case in paperback or kindle http://mybook.to/chasingthecase
Q&A
Hello Joan, congratulations on the launch and thank you for visiting The Coffee Shop. What can I get you today?
I would love to have black tea with milk and that delicious-looking almond scone I see in the display case.
You certainly can – I think I’ll join you! Meanwhile I hope you don’t mind answering a few questions:
If you’ve had a previous life who were you and when was it?
A number of years ago, I went to a well-known clairvoyant who looked into my past lives. In one I was an Inuit man who was a storyteller. She said I had a very happy life sharing stories. In another, I was a nun in a convent where the sisters secretly created writing and art. There were many others, but those two resonated with me.
What’s the story behind your story?
I take my inspiration anywhere I can find it. In this case, it was living in the rural hill towns of Western Massachusetts in the U.S., where most of my adult fiction is set. My protagonist, Isabel Long is a long-time journalist turned amateur P.I. I relied on my 30-plus years as a journalist to make her experience authentic.
What is your genre and why did you choose to write in this genre?
Actually this is the first time I attempted a mystery after my friend, Teresa Dovalpage showed me one she was writing — Death Comes in through the Kitchen. I tend to write literary fiction, plus books for middle-grade readers. But I’ve read and watched enough mysteries to understand how they work. And I found I thoroughly enjoyed the experience.
What do you find the hardest aspect of writing a novel?
Getting it published for a wide audience. As I say, there’s writing and then there’s the business of writing. Luckily, I finally found a publisher, Crooked Cat Books.
When did you start writing and what got you started?
I was fortunate to have teachers who encouraged me to write when I was a child. I moved onto poetry in college. And then I had a writer’s block that lasted two decades while I mothered six kids. That’s where my creative energy went I believe. Working as a reporter covering small towns helped break that block although I wasn’t writing fiction. I didn’t start writing fiction until I became an editor. Being a reporter is hard work. I have several unpublished novels that need a good home.
How do you deal with rejection?
At one time I kept all of my rejections, masochist that I am. Then I burned them. Now most prospective agents and publishers don’t even bother responding to email. I don’t take it personally. But it would be interesting if they contacted me in the future seeking to represent my books.
What’s the best piece of advice on writing you’ve been given?
This came from a college professor: Write like it’s never been written before.
And what are you working on next?
I am working on the second sequel to Chasing the Case. It’s the third in the Isabel Long Series called Checking the Traps.
Thanks so much Joan – I’m fascinated by your previous life experiences and as a journalist with a mystery-loving mother I’m sure Isabel and I are going to get on well! Now I’m off to start reading.
More about Joan
Joan Livingston is the author of novels for adult and young readers. Chasing the Case, published by Crooked Cat Books, is her first mystery and the first in a series featuring Isabel Long, a longtime journalist who becomes an amateur P.I.
Her other novels include The Sweet Spot; Peace, Love, and You Know What; and The Cousins and the Magic Fish/Los Primos y el Pez Mágico, a bilingual book for children.
An award-winning journalist, she started as a reporter covering the hilltowns of Western Massachusetts. She was an editor, columnist, and most recently the managing editor of The Taos News, which won numerous state and national awards during her tenure.
After eleven years in Northern New Mexico, she returned to rural Western Massachusetts, which is the setting of much of her adult fiction, including Chasing the Case and its sequels.
Get in touch
Website https://www.joanlivingston.net
Twitter twitter.com/@joanlivingston
May 11, 2018
Revealing The Secret
I love reading about books and authors on Tim’s Blog so it was so lovely to be invited to talk about my new novel
Today I’m handing over the reins of my blog to fellow Crooked Cat author Katy Johnson, whose novel The Secret is published on 1 June. Welcome Katy! Over to you …
Last year my novel The Silence was published by Crooked Cat Books. It’s about a dark secret harboured by a Tuscan villa going back to the summer of 1992 that ended in tragedy – a secret about to resurface into the idyllic life Abby has made for herself and her family in England.
But Villa Leonida has more than one story to tell.
The Secret which is published on 1st June is about a different secret guarded by the same villa. A secret that had a devastating impact on the village and which the discovery at the centre of The Silence now threatens to expose.
I love old buildings and am fascinated by their multi-layered history and the different…
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