A Wealth of Deception (A Scandal Mountain Antiques Mystery)
Traditional Mystery
2nd in Series
Setting – Vermont
Crooked Lane Books (April 18, 2023)
Hardcover ‏ : ‎ 336 pages

 

Synopsis

 

Danger, art, and a touch of romance collide in Trish Esden’s second exquisitely crafted Scandal Mountain Antiques mystery, perfect for fans of Jane K. Cleland and Connie Berry.

Some people are willing to die for their art. Others are willing to kill for it.

When Vermont antique and art dealer Edie Brown discovers an unsettlingly dark collage by the famed reclusive “outsider” artist known only as Vespa, she opens a Pandora’s Box of deception and danger.

Edie teams up with Uncle Tuck and Kala to investigate the background of the collage but only uncover secrets that are more disturbing than the artwork itself. As Edie tracks down the validity of the piece, she stumbles into an art underground where some people are willing to kill to keep their schemes a secret.

Esden expertly crafts a complex cast of characters, a breathtakingly gorgeous setting, and a twisty plot that often poses more questions than answers.

 

 

 

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Guest Post

 

 

 

 

7 Tips From a Flea Market Shopping Pro

 

Like Edie Brown, the main character in my Scandal Mountain Antiques Mystery series, I’m a fulltime antique dealer. As such, I go to a lot of flea markets in search of good deals on antiques and art. Below are my top 7 tips for flea market shopping.

 

1. Shop Early. Arrive an hour before the flea market officially opens. Being first in line to get into an indoor flea market means you’ll have a better chance of getting your hands on the best buys. At an outdoor flea market, you may even be able to sneak in early and get to see things as the vendors unpack—aka before the best items are gone.
2. Shop Late. If you love something but it’s priced higher than you want to pay, returning a short time before the flea market closes can give you leverage to dicker down a price. But don’t get your heart set on it still being there. Most super popular, low price, or appealing items sell before noon on the first day.
3. Cash is favored by most flea market vendors. But don’t just bring larger denominations: ones, fives, tens, and twenties are preferrable. Cash will also allow you to make a faster transaction (debit and credit card transactions can be slow at remote locations). This will allow you to buy something and quickly move on. Be sure to use precautions to keep your wallet, phone, and credit cards safe from electronic or physical theft.
4. Dicker. Dickering over prices is expected. First, if there isn’t a price tag on something you wish to purchase, don’t tell the vendor how much you’re willing to pay—make them name their price first. Once they state a price, make a reasonable but low counteroffer. They’ll counteroffer that amount. Except it if it’s fair. If it’s not—walk away. If you change your mind, you can go back and accept or ask if they’d reconsider your offer. Also remember that some vendors have firm prices. Respect their right to not dicker.
5. Be polite. If the vendor wants to chat, then listen to their stories. If the story is about an item you’re interested in buying, then take it with a huge grain of salt. It could be a total fabrication. Don’t block booths or tables, preventing other shoppers from looking around. This is just plain rude. Don’t act like a know it all—even if your positive a vendor is wrong. People give better deals to people they like.
6. Clothing and shopping bags. Wear comfortable footwear—no high heels—you’ll be walking on uneven surfaces and perhaps even in mud or soft earth. Carry a shopping bag or backpack. Bring packing materials such as newspaper if you plan on buying breakable items. Don’t assume packing supplies will be offered by vendors. If you hope to buy a lot or heavier items, then a wagon or wheeled shopping cart is a good idea. Have cardboard boxes in your car for transporting items. The benefit of cardboard over plastic is that they can be broken down and laid flat if you start to run out of space in your car.
7. Look carefully for repairs, damage, and fakes. The best rule of thumb when looking at a flea market item is to assume there is a problem. Take your time and check closely for damage and sneaky repairs. It’s not uncommon for paint or markers to be used to hide chips or scratches. Similarly, unscrupulous people have been known to use magic markers to color in threadbare areas of rugs and carpets. But don’t rely on just your eyes. Run your hands along an item’s surfaces. Do you feel any roughness that shouldn’t be there? Chips? Cracks? A piece of glassware, pottery, or china should make a sharp ‘ping’ sound when you flick it with your fingers. A dull sound indicates there is damage, even if you can’t see it without the aid of a blacklight. Another rule here is to trust your gut. If it’s telling you something’s wrong, then it probably is. Better to not buy an item than to get it home and then see that you messed up.

 

Bonus Tip—Love at first sight is your enemy at the flea market. Falling hard and fast for something you haven’t examined yet is the easiest way to make mistakes. Sure, it’s wise to stake your claim on an item so other buyers will clearly know you found it first and are interested—but take your time while examining it and dicker the price.

 

Have fun! I hope these tips help on your next flea market shopping trip.

 

 

About the Author

 

Trish Esden loves museums, gardens, wilderness, dogs and birds, in various orders depending on the day. She lives in northern Vermont where she deals antiques with her husband, a profession she’s been involved with since her teens. Don’t ask what her favorite type of antique is. She loves hunting for old bottles and rusty barn junk as much as she enjoys fine art and furnishings. Trish is the author of the Scandal Mountain Antiques Mystery series which explores the secretive and adrenaline-charged underbelly of the antique and art world.

 

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Giveaway

 

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Synopsis

 

Raised by two loving parents in New Delhi, India, Kanchan Bhaskar has always been taught that marriage means companionship, tenderness, and mutual respect—so when she enters into an arranged marriage, this is the kind of partnership she anticipates with her new, seemingly wonderful, husband. But after they marry, she quickly discovers that his warmth is deceptive—that the man beneath the bright, charming façade is actually a narcissistic, alcoholic, and violent man.

Trapped in a nightmare, Kanchan pleads with her husband to seek help for his issues, but he refuses. Meanwhile, Indian law is not on her side, and as the years pass, she finds herself with three children to protect—three children she fears she will lose custody of if she leaves. Almost overnight, she finds herself transformed into a tigress who will do whatever it takes to protect her cubs, and she becomes determined to free them from their toxic father. But it’s not until many years later, when the family of five moves from India to the United States, that Kanchan is presented with a real opportunity to leave him—and she takes it.

Chronicling Kanchan’s gradual climb out of the abyss, little by little, day by day, Leaving is the empowering story of how—buoyed by her deep faith in a higher power and single-minded in her determination to protect her children best—she fought relentlessly to build a ramp toward freedom from her abuser. In this memoir, Kanchan clearly lays out the tools and methods she utilized in her pursuit of liberation—and reveals how belief in self and belief in the Universe can not only be weapons of escape but also beautiful foundations for a triumphant, purpose-driven life.

 

 

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Excerpt

 

Preface

 

I grew up in New Delhi, India, and my dreams were built on the romance and jubilation in which I was brought up. I imagined my married life to be as blissful and tender as that of my parents, who truly cherished and treasured each other and nurtured their four offspring with love and warmth. They lived more as partners than as a traditional Indian husband and wife.
Having been raised in this progressive environment, I acquired a unique perception of life—a woman was an equal partner in a marriage, one to be honored and valued. Marriage meant love, companionship, and caring. I couldn’t fathom it being any other way. Violence of any kind in marriage was unthinkable. A woman was to be respected—period.

My future husband would not share these perceptions. I found myself in an arranged marriage to a bright and deceptively-charming man, who revealed his true nature only after our wedding. The first time he hit me, my world spun upside down. When it righted, I had gotten myself stuck in a tumultuous, abusive relationship with a narcissistic alcoholic, in whose captivity I was trapped for more than twenty years.

The desperate mother of three innocent children who were casualties of these circumstances, I had to get away, but my escape had to be carefully planned with no room for error. If I divorced, I’d lose one or all of my children to the man I needed to escape from, which was not an option.

There had to be a way out.

I searched until I found it.
This story narrates how I built a ramp to climb out of the abyss, little by little, using a myriad of tools to bring me closer to freedom. Although I was alone in my fight for survival, I had deep faith in the higher power which presented me with collaborators in the form of angels and mentors to light my way.

My work was slow but steady. The ramp collapsed a few times and had to be rebuilt stronger. I shaped myself into a resilient woman, a tigress who could fend for her cubs. It wasn’t easy, and each day was a struggle, yet I remained determined in my single mission to protect my children and provide them with the best, as I had been provided with. This focus gave me the courage and spirit to keep forging ahead relentlessly.

Belief in self and belief in the Universe became my weapons of ultimate escape, the foundation for my liberation and re-earned dignity.

The story doesn’t stop with gaining my freedom but describes my continuing journey on the path of spirituality. In this book, I share my dawning realizations and the period of self-resurgence, which resulted in a triumphant, purpose-driven life.

Belief in spirituality provided the foundation and a new beginning on the path toward the emancipation of mind and soul.

Today a free woman, I’m happily settled in Chicago, living life on my own terms. I walk with my head high and chin up. The first flowers of spring in their divine colors make me smile. I can laugh again at a joke, find stillness in trees, and plan without fear, making up for the lost time.
I’m reminded of my favorite lines, my motto, from Robert Frost’s “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening”:

 

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

 

Reprinted from Leaving: How I Set Myself Free from an Abusive Marriage with the permission of She Writes Press. Copyright © 2023 by Kanchan Bhaskar

 

 

About the Author

 

Kanchan Bhaskar (Kan-chan Bhas-car), an Indian-American, is a first-time author. She holds a Master’s Degree in social work and a certificate in life coaching. She is also a certified Business Coach. Being a successful Human Resource professional, her expertise is in training and mentoring. She is a certified advocate, speaker, and coach for victims and survivors of domestic violence. Kanchan lives in Chicago.

 

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Synopsis

 

When Skylar Allen decided to move across the country for college, she thought it’d be the perfect chance to reinvent herself. But then one party changed the course of her entire freshman year.

Just when she thinks she’s about to drown in the foggy memories of her night spent partying at the football house, Daniel Bridges walks into her life. Lindon University’s wide receiver. A total flirt. And a total threat.

Because he can help her take away the memories she does remember from that night.

What Skylar doesn’t anticipate is the friendship she forms with the witty football player as months go on. And how easy it is to fall for him as he teaches her how to trust again…and so much more.

 

 

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This is the follow-up book to Dare You to Hate Me

 

 

Synopsis

 

When Ivy asked her best friend to run away with her at sixteen, she knew he’d say no. He had football, an amazing family, and a happy home to go back to every day. So the night Ivy snuck out of his bedroom window after hugging him goodbye, she accepted she’d probably never see him again.

Then they both wound up at Lindon University four years later.

Ivy is barely picking up the pieces of her life when the boy whose initials she used to doodle hearts around approaches her at work. Aiden Griffith. Lindon U’s star tight end. Still as attractive. Still as dedicated. With rumors of him being drafted to the NFL coming to fruition, Ivy knows it’s only a matter of time before they have to say goodbye again.

But he can’t seem to let her go, no matter what she says, and she doesn’t think she wants him to.

 

 

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About the Author

 

B. CELESTE was born and raised in Upstate New York where she still resides with her four-legged feline sidekick Oliver “Ollie” Queen. Her love for writing began with poetry, which she learned to write after watching her father write poetry for her mother, before she found interest in short stories, novellas, and novels.

After getting two degrees in English and Creative Writing, B has written over 12 full-length novels, been invited to many signings around the world, and hopes to begin traveling to see readers worldwide.

 

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Four Parties and a Funeral (A Catering Hall Mystery)
Cozy Mystery
4th in Series
Setting – New York
Kensington Cozies (March 28, 2023)
Mass Market Paperback ‏ : ‎ 304 pages

 

Synopsis

 

In this fresh and witty cozy mystery series set amid an extended Italian-American family in Astoria, Queens, catering hall owner and amateur sleuth Mia Carina must solve a murder on the set of a reality show.

The June events schedule at Belle View is busting out all over—proms, graduations, and of course, weddings. There are unexpected bookings too, including a casting call for the pilot of Dons of Ditmars Boulevard. But soon, Mia’s fears about the cheesy reality show are confirmed . . .

Belle View quickly becomes the site of a sea of wanna-be goombahs and phony girlfriends, and some of Mia’s friends insist on getting in on the action. The production company owner and his executive producer ex-wife—who’s also very minor British royalty—have assembled a motley crew that does as much infighting and backstabbing as the on-screen “talent.” Even so, it’s a shock when a dead body is found in the pool house of a local mansion rented by the show . . .

Murder might boost the ratings. But Mia intends to make sure the killer gets jail time, not airtime . . .

Italian recipes included!

 

 

 

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Excerpt

 

If anyone had told Mia Carina that one day she’d wake up in bed next to a former male model,

she would have spit whatever she was drinking out of her nose.

Yet here she was.

Mia enjoyed a languid stretch and was rewarded with an angry meow from Doorstop, the Abyssinian diva who commanded the foot of the bed and was not happy about being woken up by an accidental nudge from Mia’s foot. Mia sat up and reached over to pet the annoyed cat. “Sorry,

sweetie. I didn’t know you were there.”

Doorstop made a sound that in human would have translated to “Yeah, right” and repositioned himself.

The male model still asleep next to Mia muttered something unintelligible and then said quite clearly, “Bacon and grape jelly.” Mia giggled. Shane stirred and opened one eye. “What?”

“You were talking in your sleep about work again. It’s adorable.”

Shane yawned and sat up. “What did I say?”

“Bacon and grape jelly.”

“Right. For the Kiwanis Club breakfast in the morning.”

“Practically our only event this month that isn’t a prom, graduation party, or wedding.”

Shane and Mia were coworkers at Belle View Banquet Manor, the party facility turned over to her “recovering mobster” father, Ravello, as payment for a gambling debt. Mia breathed a sigh of relief when Ravello asked her to help him run Belle View as a legitimate, entirely legal enterprise for the Boldano Family. She’d breathed sighs laced with lust and desire when Shane signed on at Belle View as operations manager. By Christmas, she and Shane had succumbed to their mutual attraction, but feeling guilty about the impropriety of a boss-employee relationship, they’d kept their romance on the down low for months.

Shane laced his fingers together and placed his hands between his head and the pillow. “Speaking of weddings, we need to find out if it’s okay to give Jamie and Madison cash as a present. I don’t see a bride in Connecticut carrying a satin sack for checks.”

Mia chuckled at the reference to the most important accessory to a bride’s outfit at the many Italian weddings she’d grown up with—the money sack. “At least not Madison’s family. They’re a little upscale for the sack. Nonna said that, in her day, sacks didn’t even exist. People just stuffed the checks or cash down the bride’s cleavage and, when that filled up, in the groom’s pockets or pants.”

“And now sacks are old school. Did I tell you that for the Castro-Pradeep wedding, I have to print out business cards they can hand out to their guests with their Zelle, PayPal, and Venmo account

information?”

“Ha. That’s a wedding favor I didn’t see coming.”

Shane’s extremely handsome face creased in a frown. “I still haven’t figured out what to wear to the barbecue.” He and Mia, along with Ravello, the Boldanos, and a Queens/Long Island contingent would soon be trooping up to Worthington, Connecticut, for a party hosted by Madison’s parents in honor of the happy couple.

“Me neither,” Mia said. “This is, like, a whole new world. Jamie showed me pictures of the Wythes’ house, where they’re hosting the party. It’s old and white.”

“Like Madison’s relatives,” Shane said with a sly grin.

Mia chortled, then wagged a finger at Shane. “Don’t. Be nice, you. It’s not her fault her family goes back a million years. Jamie said the house is, like, almost as old as the country, and her parents are super nice. They don’t act entitled at all. But what to wear, what to wear. Hmmm . . .” As Mia pondered this, she tapped an index finger painted with sparkly gold nail polish against her lip. The

other four nails were painted a soft sea green.

“They sail a lot in Connecticut,” Shane offered.

“Maybe stuff with anchors?”

Mia brightened. “Great idea. I’ll see what I can find online.”

Shane yawned, then leaned over to Mia, gifting her with a kiss that knocked all images of anchors and America’s founding fathers from her thoughts.

“I gotta go home and shower before work. It’s gonna be a day.”

Mia sighed. “I know.” Big Donny Boldano, Jamie’s father and technically the boss of all bosses to the Belle View crew, had begged Mia to hire Jamie’s older brother, Little Donny Boldano, to do something—anything—at the banquet facility. At the ripe old age of thirty-four, Big Donny’s namesake was still trying to find himself. This was to be his first day on the job. Mia and Shane’s plan was to let Little Donny figure out which angle of the catering business interested him the most and then place him there.

 

 

About the Author

 

Maria DiRico is the pseudonym for Ellen Byron, author of the award-winning, USA Today bestselling Cajun Country Mysteries. Born in Queens, New York, she is a first-generation Italian-American on her mother’s side and the granddaughter of a low-level Jewish mobster on her father’s side. She grew up visiting the Astoria Manor and Grand Bay Marina catering halls, which were run by her Italian mother’s family in Queens, and have become the inspiration for her Catering Hall Mystery Series. DiRico has been a writer-producer for hit television series like Wings and Just Shoot Me, and her first play, Graceland, appears in the Best Short Plays collection. She’s a freelance journalist, with over 200 articles published in national magazines, and previously worked as a cater-waiter for Martha Stewart, a credit she never tires of sharing. A native New Yorker who attended Tulane University, Ellen lives in Los Angeles with her husband, daughter, and two rescue dogs.

 

 

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Giveaway

 

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Synopsis

 

Your next stay-up-all-night thriller, about identical triplets who have a nasty habit of killing their boyfriends, and what happens when the youngest commits their worst crime yet: falling in love with her mark.

Make him want you.
Make him love you.
Make him dead.

Sissy has an…interesting family. Always the careful one, always the cautious one, she has handled the cleanup while her serial killer sisters have carved a path of carnage across the U.S. Now, as they arrive in the Arizona heat, Sissy must step up and embrace the family pastime of making a man fall in love and then murdering him. Her first target? A young widower named Edison—and their mutual attraction is instant. While their relationship progresses, and most couples would be thinking about picking out china patterns and moving in together, Sissy’s family is reminding her to think about picking out burial sites and moving on.

But then something happens that Sissy never anticipated: She begins to feel protective of Edison, and then, before she can help it, she’s fallen in love. But the clock is ticking, and her sisters are growing restless. It becomes clear that the gravesite she chooses will hide a body no matter what happens; but if she betrays her family, will it be hers?

 

 

 

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Excerpt

 

If not for my sisters and the tragic circumstances of our upbringing, I would be living an empty life and bound for heartbreak.

It started when we were nineteen.

Iris called me, frantic, in the middle of the night. She had her own apartment above a laundromat in downtown Clovis. She was so proud of that place—all five hundred square feet of it. She kept it tidy and burned incense at all hours to hide the smell from the dumpster in the alley outside her bedroom window. At night, there was the persistent throb of the bar across the street, the music loud enough to rattle the porcelain angel figurines on the shelves. They’d come with the place, and Iris had decided they made her living room look homey—a word she’d never used before, because we’d never had a home.

“Just come,” she’d sobbed and then hung up. All of my calls went straight to voicemail. I sped the whole way over there, sure that someone had just climbed up the fire escape to murder her. But what I found was a different sort of violence.

Blood, deep and dark, pooled on her oriental rug, and splattered across the angel figurines.

She’d been sleeping with her old high school guidance counselor—a fifty-one-year-old married father of two. He strung her along for months, promising to leave his wife. He broke her heart a hundred times, and then Iris plunged a kebab skewer through his.

“You watch all of those crime shows,” Moody said, emerging from the kitchen with a bottle of bleach she’d found under the sink. “Help us make this go away.”

We moved with a practical calm, the three of us, and when it was through, Iris’s ill-fated lover was resting in six garbage bags, wound tightly with duct tape. If it were only one of us, or even two, I’m sure we would have been caught. We would have missed a detail. But we were a perfect team, the three of us.

After a lifetime of being torn apart, we were finally together, finally able to help one another in all the ways we never could when we were being jostled helplessly by the foster system. All those years of loneliness, of wanting, of being kept apart, had brought us to this desperate moment. Knee-deep in the water of the San Joaquin river in the velvet black night, we weighed the pieces of the man with rocks, and a promise started to form. In the coming days, it slowly became obvious what we needed to do.

We wouldn’t deprive ourselves of love, but our hearts would be weapons. We would love the men we found completely and without inhibition, put a lifetime into our brief time together. Live out every fantasy we desired. And then we would kill them.

There would never be another lover to break one of us. We would break all of them first.

 

“Excerpted from HOW I’LL KILL YOU by Ren DeStefano published by Berkley, an imprint of Penguin Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Random House, LLC. Copyright © 2023 by Ren DeStefano”

 

 

About the Author

 

Ren DeStefano lives in Connecticut, where she was born and raised. When she’s not writing thrillers, she’s listening to true crime podcasts and crocheting way too many blankets.

 

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Synopsis

 

This memoir explores how Jeremy, a privately educated schoolboy, comes to reject his comfortable rural Surrey background to end up in the squats, drugs and hippy scene of 1970s Hornsey Rise.

The central theme of the book is Jeremy’s need to escape from the intense relationship with his alcoholic, charismatic and mentally unstable mother, her lovers, his ageing, ailing father, and about his romantic relationships.

Of particular interest is the way this memoir explores how a 1968-style vision of the world collapsed in the 1970s, and its implications for Jeremy and many of his generation. Their visionary countercultural world is not going to happen.

A journey about discovering what really matters in life. The Way to Hornsey Rise is a moving and very personal story, laced with intriguing observations about society, which all adds to its universal appeal.

 

 

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Praise

 

‘Jeremy Worman’s memoir is a compulsive read. The memoir really grips you from the start with Worman’s description of his horrifying relationship with his abusive alcoholic mother. The memoir rips away the veneer of the British upper-middle classes, showing them to be venal, despairing, corrupt.’ – Francis Gilbert

‘Surprising, even shocking, above all beautifully written. Do read it. You won’t be disappointed.’ – Christopher Sinclair-Stevenson

‘The Way to Hornsey Rise slips down like a glass of real lemonade on a hot afternoon, its sweet and bitter notes beautifully balanced. A sentimental education without illusions.’ – Ferdinand Mount

‘Taking us from the class-bound stockbroker belt suburbs of Surrey in the 1960s, all minor public schools and gin sozzled adultery, to the squats of North London in the 1970s, reeking of dope and the aroma of slowly decaying hippy idealism, this is a book rich in period detail and atmosphere, and its account of a young man’s painful progress from innocence to experience as compellingly universal as it is highly specific of a time and place.’ – Travis Elborough

 

 

Excerpt

 

The leaves were turning soft yellow.  I had arranged to meet Ma outside the Turkish cafe on Beaumont Road, assuming she made it.  She had told me last week: ‘I’m determined to find my way on public transport; I’d be embarrassed to ask a taxi to take me to that part of town.’  But unlike, say, the floor directions of expensive department stores, tube maps and bus timetables were not her natural territory.  There were few people around and certainly not Ma.  I crossed the road.

‘Darling, it’s me.’  An emerald-ringed finger pointed from the opened window of a black cab.

The taxi stopped.

‘I thought this would be the safest way,’ she said.

‘Quite right.  You can’t walk for twenty paces around here without being mugged.’

‘That’s what I feared.’

‘It was a joke, Ma.’

The cabby jumped out and opened the door for her.  An emblem of Home-Counties style stepped into one of the poorer boroughs of London: well-cut black slacks, dark-green silk blouse, short beige jacket and tartan beret.  Red toenails glowed in brown leather sandals.

‘Such an interesting drive, John.’  She gave him a five-pound note.

He touched his dark crew-cut hair, which contrasted with his ocean-blue polo shirt, and shook Ma’s hand.  ‘Enjoy your adventure, Madam.’

A Spurs pendant swayed on the dashboard as he drove off.  Ma and I looked at each other.

‘Well, what do you wear when you’re visiting your son in a down-at-heel area?’

‘You look perfect.’

‘You haven’t kissed me yet.’

I did.

‘Fresh coffee back at the flat, and I’ve planned lunch.’

‘Perhaps you could get together a team to tidy the place?’ she said when we reached the entrance gates to Welby House.

I marshalled her quickly across the yard without bumping into anyone I knew.  Fortunately the stairs had been recently washed with disinfectant and she followed me but said nothing.  She went into the living room and sat on the blue armchair.  ‘Very airy space.  Will you get a few friends to live with you?’

‘I’ve tried.  Welby House seems to frighten them off.  Traitors!’

‘You’ll find someone; I’m sure you will.’

‘I’ll go and make the coffee.’

She got up and looked out of the window.  A few minutes later I carried in the old pewter tray from Egham, and two matching cups and saucers, Staffordshire bone china, unchipped, which I had bought last week from the PDSAs second-hand shop in Islington.  I poured from the cafetiere.

‘Help yourself to the baklavas,’ I said.

She nibbled one.  ‘Lovely.  I’m pleased you haven’t given up all the pleasures of the good life.’

‘Why would I?’

‘I thought you squatter types rejected everything.’

‘Turkish cakes are allowed.’

She put down her plate.  ‘I was thinking of travelling again, Jeremy; I might stay with people I haven’t seen for years.’  She stood in the middle of the room.  ‘I don’t know how you ended up here.’

‘I didn’t want to live a Surrey sort of life any more.’

Her gaze peeled off my squatting dreams and exposed my fears.  How could I have any vision of my own if she did not approve it?  Was my real terror not that I had rejected her but that she had rejected me?  I saw this place through her eyes: the torn section of flock wallpaper around the chipped door; the semi repainted living room, in a special-offer Dulux Sage Green, from the hardware shop on Holloway Road; the loose floorboards; the stained carpet.

Where’s the bathroom, darling?’

‘Up the stairs; first door on the right.’

What could I trust if she was not in my life?

Ma came back from the bathroom. ‘I forgot to give you the champagne; let’s have it now; it’s still quite chilled.’  She took it out of her Liberty-print bag.

I got two glasses from the kitchen, rubbed them with the drying-up towel, and rushed back.  She pushed out the cork, which bounced off the ceiling, and filled our glasses.

‘To your new life,’ she said.

‘Smoked salmon and scrambled eggs for lunch.’

The stale smell of the flat followed me to the kitchen.  How had I landed up here?  Why did I want Ma to see this place?  Was I trying to shock her?  Was I saying, ‘Just look how much I have rejected your fucking pretentious Surrey world?’  Five minutes later I carried in two plates.

‘Voila.’

We sat at the table and talked about family things, which seemed to come from a distant world.  The champagne intensified my sense of disjuncture.

‘We’re going to grow organic vegetables and sell them,’ I said.

‘Here?’

‘Yes.’

‘How sweet.’

‘It’s not “sweet”; it’s changing the way we think about the city.  Do you want to see the allotment?’

‘I know what vegetable patches look like, darling.’

After lunch we looked out at the square.

‘Come home for a few months if you want.’

‘I like it here.’

‘Do you mind if I pop off?  I’ll get a cab to Simpson’s; I need a new outfit for the autumn.’

‘If we walk to Archway Road, you’ll find one more easily.’

‘No.  I feel quite safe.  It’s not as rough as I expected; if I need help I’m sure the natives will be charming.’  She picked up her bag.  ‘Thanks for showing me your experiment in living.  Come and see me soon.’

‘I will.’

We kissed and she left.  As the door shut, I felt terribly alone and wanted to hear her voice again.  I recalled that day years’ ago at Miss Fish’s when she was late collecting me.  I had been looking out for her at the small landing window and pictured her face but could no longer hear her voice.  The silence made a void in which I was nothing.  Then I saw her face again, and heard different voices speak from her mouth, but none of them was hers.  It was as if she no longer existed.  Perhaps she had found another voice with which to speak to a boy just like me.

 

Excerpt from The Way to Hornsey Rise © Jeremy Worman 2023

 

 

About the Author

 

Jeremy Worman is a writer and critic who taught English Literature to American BA students for twenty-five years at Birkbeck, University of London, Cambridge University and Hackney Adult Education Institute.

He was awarded a First in English from Birkbeck, and has an MA (Distinction) in Creative and Life Writing from Goldsmiths, University of London, an M. Litt from Cambridge University and a PhD in Creative Writing from Goldsmiths (2021) where Blake Morrison was the supervisor for this memoir; the examiners were Francis Spufford and Sir Jonathan Bate.

Jeremy’s short-story collections, Fragmented (2011) and Swimming with Diana Dors and Other Stories (2014), were published by Cinnamon Press. His short stories and poems have been published widely in, amongst other places, The London Magazine, Ambit, The Frogmore Papers, the Cork Literary Review.

He has reviewed for The Observer, the Times Literary Supplement, the New Statesman and many other publications.

 

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Synopsis

 

Hairstylist Marla Vail and her detective husband Dalton are having a blast visiting a Florida living history village over Fourth of July weekend. But when a Seminole battle reenactment turns up a real dead body, it sets off fireworks among the villagers. One of the cast members has gone off script to murder the town marshal with a tomahawk in his head.

As Dalton gets involved in the investigation, Marla determines to help him solve the case. Her flare for uncovering secrets reveals that everyone in the village is a suspect. Instead of celebrating the holiday with red, white, and barbecues, she discovers secrets, lies, and false avenues. Did the marshal’s murder have anything to do with a lost Confederate payroll, or did his plans to renovate the park light a fuse that he couldn’t snuff out?

In a place where history comes alive, the dead bodies are piling up. Marla would rather be chilling and grilling, but somebody’s mind is on killing. If she’s not careful, her sleuthing might blow up in her face like a faulty firecracker and she’ll become the next victim.

 

 

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About the Author

 

Nancy J. Cohen writes the Bad Hair Day Mysteries featuring South Florida hairstylist Marla Vail. Titles in this series have been named Best Cozy Mystery by Suspense Magazine, won a Readers’ Favorite gold medal and a RONE Award, placed first in the Chanticleer International Book Awards, and third in the Arizona Literary Awards. Her nonfiction titles, Writing the Cozy Mystery and A Bad Hair Day Cookbook, have also garnered numerous awards, including the FAPA President’s Book Award and the Royal Palm Literary Award. When not busy writing, Nancy enjoys reading, fine dining, cruising, and visiting Disney World.

 

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Synopsis

 

Raised in Karkov, a military, male-dominant kingdom, twins Natalia and Jillian know nothing but battle. When Jillian emerges as the dominant twin and apparent heir to the throne, Natalia, the softer and more diplomatic sister, ceases her military training. As Natalia prepares to marry the prince of her father’s favored Western ally, Jillian is set to become the first woman Lion of Karkov. But things don’t go as planned when the older generation of warriors values her womb over her sword. Suddenly, the role Jillian has fought for all her life is slipping through her fingers…and she’s not about to let it go without a fight.

At first, Jillian wants to destroy the young male warrior that the older generation favors. But soon, the two begin to fall for each other, and dark secrets behind Karkov’s past come to light. Now, Jillian finds herself in the unthinkable position of defending her former rival…and defying her father. Her defiance inspires a younger generation of warriors, who dub her the Lioness of Karkov.

Furious, her father ousts Jillian and the warriors who swore allegiance to her, setting in motion a chain of events that will disrupt everything he swore to protect. As innocent lands suffer invasion, greedy monarchies fall to revolution, and the wedding of the century threatens to live up to its name, Jillian and Natalia must reckon with the consequences of love and war. When four nations converge on a battlefield, one sister must decide whether to embrace the life she always wanted—or stand up for the destiny that was never meant for her.

 

 

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Interview with Dale

 

Jillian and Natalia are deeply developed characters in this story. Could you go into what it was like to create these characters and the work it took to evolve them throughout the story?

 

I wanted to create twin sisters who were subjected to the same cruel upbringing yet emerged from their circumstances with completely different personalities. Natalia’s character evolved more over the revisions than Jillian’s. 

Despite some readers finding Jillian too quick-tempered and unfair, my thoughts are that she is the direct result of her childhood. Natalia, being a person who puts others before herself, should be considered the enigma. Early drafts did not portray her as spoiled during her youth, but I preferred to show her evolve into a proper heroine, with her love of Jillian being the reason.

 

The story is set in a European setting despite being an epic fantasy world. What went into creating the world Jillian and Natalia live in?

 

Europe — its people, its landscapes, its cities, and its history — inspires me to write. I set out on writing the Euro-inspired story without knowing what the reader would think about my imaginary places obviously being taken from real places. Luckily, early readers found that it helped them picture the setting, so I fully embraced the method and ran with it.

 

As a male author, what was your motivation to write a fantasy story focusing on two women fighting in a patriarchal society?

 

My favorite characters are feisty female protagonists who refuse to conform to what is expected of them. With Jillian in particular, I created a near-insurmountable obstacle to overcome and unleashed a ferocious lioness to attack it.

 

You also plan to donate sales of your book to Girls, Inc. What is your motivation there and how do you believe this connects to the story?

 

It’s what Jillian and Natalia would want — to support girls in becoming bold and independent women.

 

Are you working on any additional projects?

 

Yes, I have outlined a new book in a similar style where the lands are inspired by Scotland and Northern England, including their rivalry. A druidess is taken from her Highlands homeland to serve a Scottish-like ruler trying to preserve his title of king. But also, the continued “Last Lion of Karkov” story with the threat from the Desert Lion is never far from my thoughts.

 

 

About the Author

 

DALE GRIFFIN is a historical fantasy writer releasing his debut novel “The Last Lion of Karkov” in March 2023. Griffin considers himself a traveler and a writer as a result. Married to his best friend and travel partner, the two explore Europe as frequently as possible. Inspired by those journeys, Griffin uses his experiences to influence his imagined worlds and the memorable characters who dwell in them.

 

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Synopsis

 

Brace yourself for a scorching new series from New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Karen Rose, where San Diego means sun, surf, sand…and serial killers.

Sam Reeves is a kindhearted psychologist who treats court-ordered clients. After one of his patients—a pathological liar—starts revealing plausible new details from a long-unsolved serial murder case, he’s compelled to report anonymously to the SDPD tip line, though his attempts to respect patient confidentiality land him facedown and cuffed by the aggressive (and cute) Detective McKittrick.

San Diego homicide detective Kit McKittrick loves the water. She lives on a boat, and when she’s not solving crimes with the SDPD, she’s assisting her foster sister with her charter fishing business or playing with her poodle. But there’s nothing that intrigues Kit more than a cold case, so when an anonymous caller leads her on the path of a wanted killer, she’s determined to end the decade-long manhunt.

Sam is soon released but goes home with both a newfound distaste for the SDPD and a resolve—not unlike Kit’s—to uncover the truth. Kit and Sam repeatedly butt heads in their separate investigations but are forced to work together to find one of the deadliest serial killers the city has faced in years.

 

 

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Excerpt

 

Longview Park, San Diego, California

Monday, April 4, 5:30 p.m.

 

Kit pulled the handkerchief across her nose and mouth as she watched the two CSU techs meticulously uncovering what was, indeed, a grave. Based on the odor, the body had been there awhile.

They’d arrived at the mystery caller’s coordinates to find that the ground had settled somewhat, creating a slight depression that measured five and a half by two and a half feet.

Ground-penetrating radar had shown a body.

The victim had been small.

Kit slipped her hand into her pocket, finding the little cat-bird figurine. Stroking it with her thumb. Please don’t be a child.

“I hope it’s not a kid,” Baz murmured, echoing her thoughts.

All homicides were difficult. Even drug dealers murdered on the street had been loved by someone. Were missed by someone.

But the child homicides were a completely different level of hell.

She looked away from the grave to where Sergeant Ryland, the CSU leader, was making a plaster cast of the only footprint they’d found in the area. It was a man’s shoe, size eleven.

“You got anything for us, Ryland?” she called.

“I just might.”

She and Baz walked from the grave site to where someone had stepped off the asphalt path, leaving the single footprint in the strip of ground between the path and the field of grass.

Ryland finished pouring the plaster over the footprint, smoothed it out, then set the timer on his phone. “Thirty minutes for the plaster to set. Come see the photos I took of the print while I wait.” He retrieved his camera and beckoned them closer. “There was lettering on the sole of the shoe-likely a brand name. I can’t quite make it out in the photo, but I’m hoping to get detail from the plaster cast.”

“So it’ll be seventy-two hours or so,” Baz said and Ryland nodded.

Kit leaned closer to the screen. “Can you zoom in on it?”

Ryland did, handing the camera to Kit. “I can make out what looks like a Y at the end of the brand name, but-”

“Sperry,” Kit said. “Sorry to interrupt, Sergeant. I recognize the logo. They’re Sperry Top-Siders.” She gave him back his camera. “My sister runs a charter fishing business and sometimes I first mate for her on my days off. A lot of her customers wear them.”

Ryland studied the photo. “You could be right.”

She was, Kit was certain. “Trouble is, that’s a popular shoe. I’ve even got a pair.”

“So do I,” Baz said. “Tracking those will be nearly impossible.”

Kit shrugged. “But when we find the guy who owns these shoes, we can put him at the scene. Any way to get a weight estimate on the wearer?”

Ryland shook his head. “Ground’s too hard. Barely enough sinkage to get the plaster cast. I’ll let you know when I have something definite.”

“Detectives?” one of the techs at the grave called, his tone urgent. “Something over here you need to see.”

“Thank you, Sergeant,” Kit said, then approached the grave alongside Baz, schooling her expression. If it was a child’s grave, she would maintain her professionalism. She’d let herself react later, when she was alone.

“Victim’s a postpubescent female,” the tech said when they were graveside. “The ME will be able to give you a better age than I can, but I’m guessing somewhere between fourteen and eighteen.”

Feeling Baz’s eyes on her, Kit reassured him with a quick glance. She was fine.

He always worried about her reaction when the victim was the same age that Wren had been when she’d been murdered, but after four years as a homicide detective, Kit had seen far too many victims who’d been Wren’s age. It never got easier.

She hoped that it never would.

 

Excerpted from Cold-Blooded Liar by Karen Rose Copyright © 2023 by Karen Rose. Excerpted by permission of Berkley. All rights reserved. 

 

 

About the Author

 

Karen Rose is the award-winning, #1 international bestselling author of more than twenty-five novels, including the bestselling Baltimore and Cincinnati series. She has been translated into twenty-three languages, and her books have placed on the New York Times, the Sunday Times (UK), and Germany’s der Spiegel bestseller lists.

 

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A modern, brashly flavorful guide to cooking Taiwanese-American food, from Brooklyn’s lauded Win Son, Win Son Bakery, and Cathy Erway, celebrated writer and expert on the cuisine

Josh Ku, born in Queens to parents from southern Taiwan, and Trigg Brown, a native Virginian whose mentor was a Taiwanese-American chef, forged a friendship over food—specifically, excellent tsang ying tou, or “flies’ head,” a dish of chopped budding chives kissed with pork fat. Their obsession with Taiwanese food and culture propelled them to open Win Son together in 2016. The East Williamsburg restaurant quickly established itself as a destination and often incurs long waits for their vibrant and flavorful Taiwanese-American cuisine.

Ku and Brown have teamed up with Cathy Erway, Taiwanese food expert and celebrated writer, to create this book which explores and celebrates the cuisine of Taiwan and its ever-simmering pot of creative influences. Told through the eyes, taste buds, travels, and busy lives of Ku, Brown, and Erway, this book brings the cuisine of this misunderstood island nation into the spotlight. With 100 creative, yet accessible recipes, this book will unravel the history of this diaspora cuisine. While featuring classic dishes and well-known favorites, this cookbook also stretches this cuisine’s definition, introducing new dishes with brazen twists that are fun, flavorful, and decidedly American-born in style.

 

 

 

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My Thoughts

 

The one thing that I really enjoy about being a part of the Abrams Dinner Party is being exposed to new cuisines. While I am somewhat of an adventurous eater, there are some areas that I have never tried. Taiwanese food is one of those. I guess you could say that I was intimidated by the potentially crazy ingredients (well, for this southern gal anyway), and would my family be open to trying new things?

I picked up this cookbook and started reading. Usually, I don’t read much outside of the recipes and notes for those dishes. However, I read the Prologue this time, drawing me into the cuisine and what might be possible. I enjoyed the information from the chefs, how they created their restaurant and the various dishes they serve.

With a more open mind, I started flipping through the different sections and perusing the recipes. The photos are gorgeous and showcase the various dishes quite well.

The recipes cover a wide variety of palates and range from vegetarian to those for the meat lover. I like how there is a blend of Taiwanese and American, sort of a fusion but not quite.

I have earmarked a few recipes I want to try once I figure out where to get some of the specialty items. There is a large Asian community in my town, and I will have to venture over to one of their markets to see what they have to offer. I think these will have to be dishes I prepare when I can set aside a fair amount of time since it is not something I am used to preparing. It’s a learning curve!

Peppered throughout the book are also conversations with the chefs about the food and how it has impacted their lives. It makes for fascinating reading.

If you are a Taiwanese food fan or want to learn how to make some, check out this cookbook. Please note that the cookie recipe is slightly off, so don’t start with that one!