It’s been a busy, busy here. Writing, editing, trying to learn new techy skills, dog walking, grandchildren, etc., etc. But I’m loving it. Everything is flowing nicely.
My amateur sleuths, accountant Tom, and cleaner Liz, have only gone and solved the mystery! Yes, you heard correctly. In record time, what was my latest WIP is finished. It’s new, so all the usual concerns about whether it will work for you, the readers, are bumping around, and there is still the issue of a title. I have several ideas on a series name, (if I ever get that far), but I’m still stumped on the title. I’ve sent it off to three trusted friends, all of whom will tell me if it’s any good, and hopefully get the inspiration that I am lacking on what to call it. I’ll keep you posted on that.
Here’s a little taster for you taken from Chapter Two after Tom has stumbled across a dead body. I hope you like it, let me know what you think.
“So, tell me what you want, what you r . . . Argh!” Her, singing interrupted, Liz Thorne’s scream was shrill, and she jabbed her feather duster at Tom. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.” She pulled one of her earphones out. “What are you doing in there?”
Heavy eyes looked at Liz. “Taking a shower. What does it look like I’m doing? I was sleeping. Why are you here so early? Is it even your day?”
“Yes. Wednesday. And I’m not early, I’m late. It’s ten-thirty. Had to go into . . . I won’t bother you with that. Then they had the top of the road taped off. I hope it’s not another unexploded bomb. That took an age to deal with last time. I thought you’d gone out, although that would be strange. Have you not got to work today? You usually just grunt from behind your screen.” Liz Thorne waved the duster as she spoke.
Tom sometimes thought he should have a word with her about the lack of respect. But he liked her attitude, her zest. Liz was never rude, not really, she simply told it how it was. She was refreshing, if somewhat irritating.
“I have, yes. Ten-thirty, bloody hell.” Tom threw the duvet back. “I’ll jump in the shower. Don’t suppose you’ve made tea, have you?”
“Nope. Because you weren’t there to ask for one. I’ll go and put the kettle on and do downstairs first. I only came up out of habit. Don’t you get moaning at me for doing it first. Did you have too much?”
“Too much what?” Tom flicked his hand back and forth indicating she should move out of the way. He knew exactly what she meant.
Leaning around him, she pointed at the glass. “Too much.”
“No, I haven’t, and I resent the accusation. If you must know, last night I . . .” Tom’s hand flew to his mouth, and he mumbled into it. “You knew her.”
“What? Knew who?” Liz grinned. “You dark horse. Have you been on a date? Is that what you’re really doing on that computer, dating sites, not boring old accounts?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I found Denise Knight’s body, she was dead. I’m so sorry.”
“Dead. Denise? Oh my God. She’s been murdered, hasn’t she? That’s why the tape’s there? How did you find her, were you meeting her?”
“I know it’s a shock, Liz, but really. You’ve met Denise, you’ve met me. Why would I be meeting her?”
“Well, I don’t know. Stranger things have happened, like you being out and finding dead bodies. Dead bodies belonging to people who have been stalked.”
“Stalked? Have you told the police?”
“I’ve only just found out she’s been murdered. Oh God I need a drink. I’ll put a drop of this in our tea.” As bold as brass she opened his bedside drawer and took out the almost empty bottle. She held it up as though inspecting how much had been imbibed. “Hmm.”
“Hmm! How did you know that was there? Have you been going through my things?” Tom’s hands were on his hips.
“No I have not! And I resent that accusation. I clean for you. Properly. Behind stuff. On the first Wednesday of every month I do the bedrooms, properly. I move stuff to clean behind them. That cabinet always chinks. Glass on glass. I didn’t need to look to know what it was, I also see your recycling.” She was jabbing the feather duster at him again. “It’s obvious you have an issue.”
“What? Liz, you have just overstepped the mark. I might have issues, but drink isn’t one of them, and even if it was, you are not the person to tell me. I’m going for a shower.”
“And I haven’t got an issue with it either, but I’m having some of this in my tea. Hurry up. I want the detail, then we must call the police.” Liz was already on the stairs. “Don’t stand there gawping. Get in the shower.”
“Even my wife didn’t speak to me like that. You are overstepping the mark. Again.”
“So you keep saying, hurry up, Mr Large. I’ve got to do Harry Burnham after you. I don’t know what he’s going to say. He was her neighbour, he liked Denise.”
In other news: The first beta comments are back in for Web of Deceit, and HURRAH! it’s gone down well, we did miss a few issues, but my eagle eyed betas are catching them. Thank you. M & H had a bit of a shake up at the end of Web of Deceit (but panic not, no one died!) and so far they seem to have liked that too. If you’d like to order your copy before it goes live, you can do so here.
“But what was the number 13 stuff all about?” I hear you shout.
Brace yourselves . . . Meredith & Hodge are already working their next case. Yes, already! I had an idea on the next storyline, it’s mentioned at the end of Web of Deceit, and I had to get it written down. The story then ran away with me. Unlike poor old Tom & Liz, M & H 13, at least has a working title. “Error of Judgement”.
I won’t say much more, because as I say there’s been a bit of a shake up. I’ve just started chapter four, and I’m thoroughly enjoying watching the new dynamics.
That’s it for now, hope you’re all having a lovely weekend.