Promo: A Meadow Murder by Helen Hollick
I'm delighted to welcome back my lovely author friend, Helen Hollick, today.
A Meadow Murder is the fourth tale in the Jan Christopher cosy murder mystery series, the first three being A Mirror Murder, A Mystery of Murder and A Mistake of Murder... see what I’ve done there? Yes, I’ve created a proper puzzle for myself because now every tale in the series will have to follow the same title pattern of ‘A M-something- of Murder’ (Suggestions welcome!).
Based on working as a library assistant during the 1970s for almost thirteen years, the mysteries alternate between the location of Chingford, north-east London, where the real library I worked in used to be, (the building is still there, but is, alas, now offices) and my own North Devon village, but slightly fictionized. Chappletawton, for instance, is much larger than my rural community and has far more quirky characters, (and we haven’t had any real murders!).
The main characters, however, remain the same: Jan Christopher is the niece, and ward, of Detective Chief Inspector Toby Christopher and his wife, her Aunt Madge. In A Mirror Murder, Jan (short for January, a name she hates) meets her uncle’s new driver, Detective Constable Lawrence Walker. Naturally, it is love at first sight ... but will an investigation into the murder affect their budding romance?
We find out as the series continues: Episode Two takes the young couple to spend Christmas as Laurie’s parents’ old farmhouse in Devon, while Episode Three sees us back at work at the library in the north-east London suburb of Chingford. We yet again travel to Devon for Episode Four - A Meadow Murder. And no spoilers, but the title is a little bit of a giveaway!
I had the idea for A Meadow Murder during the summer of 2022, while watching our top meadow being cut for hay. The cover photograph for A Meadow Murder is my field – a real Devonshire hay meadow, and the scenes in the story about cutting, turning and baling the hay are based on how we really do it. (Even down to the detail of the red Massey Ferguson tractor.)
In fact, I’m very glad that we cut and brought in our 480 bales of hay this year back in June when it really was a case of ‘make hay while the sun shone.’
I am relieved to say, however, that we didn’t find a body...
Read on in A Meadow Murder, and immerse yourself in country life during the summer of 1972 ... and maybe solve a murder along the way?
Blurb:
Make hay while the sun shines? But what happens when a murder is discovered, and country life is disrupted?
Summer 1972. Young library assistant Jan Christopher and her fiancé, DS Lawrence Walker, are on holiday in North Devon. There are country walks and a day at the races to enjoy, along with Sunday lunch at the village pub, and the hay to help bring in for the neighbouring farmer.
But when a body is found the holiday plans are to change into an investigation of murder, hampered by a resting actor, a woman convinced she’s met a leprechaun and a scarecrow on walkabout...
Buy Links:
Universal Link: https://mybook.to/AMeadowMurder
We're celebrating Helen's fabulous new release, A Meadow Murder. If you love clever whodunits, this one's for you. Helen shares her inspiration and even an enticing excerpt. Have a look!
A Meadow Murder
A Jan Christopher Mystery
Helen Hollick
About A Meadow Murder
A Meadow Murder is the fourth tale in the Jan Christopher cosy murder mystery series, the first three being A Mirror Murder, A Mystery of Murder and A Mistake of Murder... see what I’ve done there? Yes, I’ve created a proper puzzle for myself because now every tale in the series will have to follow the same title pattern of ‘A M-something- of Murder’ (Suggestions welcome!).
Based on working as a library assistant during the 1970s for almost thirteen years, the mysteries alternate between the location of Chingford, north-east London, where the real library I worked in used to be, (the building is still there, but is, alas, now offices) and my own North Devon village, but slightly fictionized. Chappletawton, for instance, is much larger than my rural community and has far more quirky characters, (and we haven’t had any real murders!).
The main characters, however, remain the same: Jan Christopher is the niece, and ward, of Detective Chief Inspector Toby Christopher and his wife, her Aunt Madge. In A Mirror Murder, Jan (short for January, a name she hates) meets her uncle’s new driver, Detective Constable Lawrence Walker. Naturally, it is love at first sight ... but will an investigation into the murder affect their budding romance?
We find out as the series continues: Episode Two takes the young couple to spend Christmas as Laurie’s parents’ old farmhouse in Devon, while Episode Three sees us back at work at the library in the north-east London suburb of Chingford. We yet again travel to Devon for Episode Four - A Meadow Murder. And no spoilers, but the title is a little bit of a giveaway!
 |
| Harvest time (c) Helen Hollick |
I had the idea for A Meadow Murder during the summer of 2022, while watching our top meadow being cut for hay. The cover photograph for A Meadow Murder is my field – a real Devonshire hay meadow, and the scenes in the story about cutting, turning and baling the hay are based on how we really do it. (Even down to the detail of the red Massey Ferguson tractor.)
 |
| Tractor (c) Helen Hollick |
In fact, I’m very glad that we cut and brought in our 480 bales of hay this year back in June when it really was a case of ‘make hay while the sun shone.’
I am relieved to say, however, that we didn’t find a body...
Excerpt:
Bess was pleased to see us, wagging her tail nineteen to the dozen. Laurie offered to take her for a walk up the lane, and as there was a stunning sunset blooming over to the west, Aunt Madge and I went with him to get a better view from the top of the lane. The three of us leant contentedly on the gate into the meadow watching, fascinated, as the sky beyond the hills turned to salmon pink streaked with shafts of gold, then gradually faded to purple and dark blue. Behind us, a full moon was rising, large and beautiful.
The air was heady with the scent of cut grass, the hay in its neat windrows casting shallow, moon-shadowed patterns across the field. Laurie said that Ralph Greenslade would have turned it some time during the afternoon, explaining that with the gadgets he used attached to the tractor the job was done a lot quicker and easier than before the war, before modern technology came into being.
“All the work would have been done by hand,” he explained. “Cut with a scythe, turned over to dry with pitchforks, raked up and bundled into stooks. These would then be tossed onto a cart pulled by a couple of Shire horses or maybe Suffolk Punches or Percherons, and stacked near the farmyard as a neat haystack. I remember Ralph’s mother telling me, when I was a young lad, that as they tossed the hay to dry the seeds would fall out along with slugs, beetles and the occasional snake, slow worm or mouse.” He laughed. “Most of which, she’d said, went into her hair or down her neck. Thank goodness for modern machinery, eh?”
I shuddered at the thought, and pushed it firmly aside. “This glorious smell would be the same,” I said, inhaling deeply but shuddering at the thought of slugs. Ugh, they remind me of leeches. How did people of the past tolerate leeches being purposely put on the skin as a medicinal cure? That scene in The African Queen where Charlie – Humphrey Bogart – climbs out of the water and discovers he is covered by the horrible things... makes me shiver just to think about it. I can tolerate most things, but not slugs. Or large, hairy spiders.
Several bats were flitting overhead. Laurie said they were Pipistrelles. I don’t know why people are afraid of bats. They are so clever with their athletic ability and precision navigation, swooping and diving after insects that bite us and damage crops and gardens. Then Aunt Madge spotted a barn owl, shimmering ghostly white beneath the full moon that was rising higher from behind the eastern hedgerow. In awed silence we watched the owl quartering the lines of hay, looking for its supper.
“Their heart-shaped faces are designed to direct sound to their ears, which are set at slightly different heights in order to pinpoint their prey,” Laurie whispered. “Once they've located a mouse, or whatever, they hover overhead then swoop down, grab it with their talons, then eat it whole. Look! There it goes... it’s got something. No going hungry tonight.”
I thought it not surprising that people of the past – and even today, come to that – thought these incredible birds were ethereal, supernatural spirits. Watching the owl glide silently away across the hedgerows, I could well believe this was a ghost, not a living creature.
Bess was pleased to see us, wagging her tail nineteen to the dozen. Laurie offered to take her for a walk up the lane, and as there was a stunning sunset blooming over to the west, Aunt Madge and I went with him to get a better view from the top of the lane. The three of us leant contentedly on the gate into the meadow watching, fascinated, as the sky beyond the hills turned to salmon pink streaked with shafts of gold, then gradually faded to purple and dark blue. Behind us, a full moon was rising, large and beautiful.
The air was heady with the scent of cut grass, the hay in its neat windrows casting shallow, moon-shadowed patterns across the field. Laurie said that Ralph Greenslade would have turned it some time during the afternoon, explaining that with the gadgets he used attached to the tractor the job was done a lot quicker and easier than before the war, before modern technology came into being.
“All the work would have been done by hand,” he explained. “Cut with a scythe, turned over to dry with pitchforks, raked up and bundled into stooks. These would then be tossed onto a cart pulled by a couple of Shire horses or maybe Suffolk Punches or Percherons, and stacked near the farmyard as a neat haystack. I remember Ralph’s mother telling me, when I was a young lad, that as they tossed the hay to dry the seeds would fall out along with slugs, beetles and the occasional snake, slow worm or mouse.” He laughed. “Most of which, she’d said, went into her hair or down her neck. Thank goodness for modern machinery, eh?”
I shuddered at the thought, and pushed it firmly aside. “This glorious smell would be the same,” I said, inhaling deeply but shuddering at the thought of slugs. Ugh, they remind me of leeches. How did people of the past tolerate leeches being purposely put on the skin as a medicinal cure? That scene in The African Queen where Charlie – Humphrey Bogart – climbs out of the water and discovers he is covered by the horrible things... makes me shiver just to think about it. I can tolerate most things, but not slugs. Or large, hairy spiders.
Several bats were flitting overhead. Laurie said they were Pipistrelles. I don’t know why people are afraid of bats. They are so clever with their athletic ability and precision navigation, swooping and diving after insects that bite us and damage crops and gardens. Then Aunt Madge spotted a barn owl, shimmering ghostly white beneath the full moon that was rising higher from behind the eastern hedgerow. In awed silence we watched the owl quartering the lines of hay, looking for its supper.
“Their heart-shaped faces are designed to direct sound to their ears, which are set at slightly different heights in order to pinpoint their prey,” Laurie whispered. “Once they've located a mouse, or whatever, they hover overhead then swoop down, grab it with their talons, then eat it whole. Look! There it goes... it’s got something. No going hungry tonight.”
I thought it not surprising that people of the past – and even today, come to that – thought these incredible birds were ethereal, supernatural spirits. Watching the owl glide silently away across the hedgerows, I could well believe this was a ghost, not a living creature.
Read on in A Meadow Murder, and immerse yourself in country life during the summer of 1972 ... and maybe solve a murder along the way?
~~~
Blurb:
"As delicious as a Devon Cream Tea!"
~ author Elizabeth St John
"Every sentence pulls you back into the early 1970s... The Darling Buds of May, only not Kent, but Devon. The countryside itself is a character and Hollick imbues it with plenty of emotion"
"Every sentence pulls you back into the early 1970s... The Darling Buds of May, only not Kent, but Devon. The countryside itself is a character and Hollick imbues it with plenty of emotion"
~ author Alison Morton
Make hay while the sun shines? But what happens when a murder is discovered, and country life is disrupted?
Summer 1972. Young library assistant Jan Christopher and her fiancé, DS Lawrence Walker, are on holiday in North Devon. There are country walks and a day at the races to enjoy, along with Sunday lunch at the village pub, and the hay to help bring in for the neighbouring farmer.
But when a body is found the holiday plans are to change into an investigation of murder, hampered by a resting actor, a woman convinced she’s met a leprechaun and a scarecrow on walkabout...
Buy Links:
Universal Link: https://mybook.to/AMeadowMurder
A Meadow Murder is also available to read on #KindleUnlimited.
Also available worldwide, or order from any reliable bookstore.
All Helen’s books are available on Amazon: https://viewauthor.at/HelenHollick
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About the Author:
Helen Hollick
First accepted for traditional publication in 1993, Helen became a USA Today Bestseller with her historical novel, The Forever Queen (titled A Hollow Crown in the UK) with the sequel, Harold the King (US: I Am The Chosen King) being novels that explore the events that led to the Battle of Hastings in 1066.
Also available worldwide, or order from any reliable bookstore.
All Helen’s books are available on Amazon: https://viewauthor.at/HelenHollick
.jpg)
About the Author:
Helen Hollick
First accepted for traditional publication in 1993, Helen became a USA Today Bestseller with her historical novel, The Forever Queen (titled A Hollow Crown in the UK) with the sequel, Harold the King (US: I Am The Chosen King) being novels that explore the events that led to the Battle of Hastings in 1066.
Her Pendragon’s Banner Trilogy is a fifth-century version of the Arthurian legend, and she writes a nautical adventure/fantasy series, The Sea Witch Voyages. She has also branched out into the quick read novella, 'Cosy Mystery' genre with her Jan Christopher Murder Mysteries, set in the 1970s, with the first in the series, A Mirror Murder incorporating her, often hilarious, memories of working as a library assistant.
Her non-fiction books are Pirates: Truth and Tales and Life of A Smuggler. She lives with her family in an eighteenth-century farmhouse in North Devon, enjoys hosting guests on her own blog ‘Let Us Talk Of Many Things’ and occasionally gets time to write...
Connect with Helen:
Website: https://helenhollick.net
Subscribe to her Newsletter: https://tinyletter.com/HelenHollick
Main Blog: https://ofhistoryandkings.blogspot.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/helen.hollick
Twitter: https://twitter.com/HelenHollick
Her non-fiction books are Pirates: Truth and Tales and Life of A Smuggler. She lives with her family in an eighteenth-century farmhouse in North Devon, enjoys hosting guests on her own blog ‘Let Us Talk Of Many Things’ and occasionally gets time to write...
Connect with Helen:
Website: https://helenhollick.net
Subscribe to her Newsletter: https://tinyletter.com/HelenHollick
Main Blog: https://ofhistoryandkings.blogspot.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/helen.hollick
Twitter: https://twitter.com/HelenHollick
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