I'm reviewing Murder in Edinburgh...

... by fellow writer, Val Penny.  Read on ...

I think someone somewhere said that you can't leave a good book on a shelf for long!  This holds true for Murder in Edinburgh.  First published in 2017 as Hunter's Chase by Crooked Cat Books, this story has been around for a while.  But publishers change, contracts are renewed or not, and authors sometimes need to find pastures new.  So, it was really good to see this story back on sale again with a fabulous new cover, completely revised content and with a wonderful new publisher, Joffe Books.  And if that isn't enough, this, and all the other books in the series have all been re-titled.  But fear not, Detective Inspector Hunter Wilson is still walking the pages and the streets of Edinburgh, solving these fabulous mysteries.

Murder in Edinburgh begins with a burglary that is interrupted by the homeowner, who happens to be a Minister of State.  When the thief runs, with the minister in close pursuit, the action comes to a dead halt as the body of a hastily buried woman is discovered.  This gritty police procedural, with many twists and turns throughout the book, carries on at a cracking pace from that point.

With multiple lines of enquiry, this is a brilliant read for all those armchair sleuths who like to try and solve the puzzle before the central character.  In addition, Val, who is a master plotter, carefully weaves the body of evidence into a wholly satisfying conclusion.

It was great to be back with Hunter and his team. Unlike others, I was quite happy to let Hunter lead me through this investigation and to let Val reacquaint me with the personnel at the police station.  Re-reading this book was like meeting up with old friends.

Murder in Edinburgh is the first of the DI Hunter Wilson investigations in a series that just keeps getting better and better.  If you are discovering these books for the very first time, then there are a further 5 books to be released.  A little bird has also told me that book seven in the series is being worked on and will be available in the new year.

If you've already read the originals, then look out for these old friends as they are gradually re-released.  As I said at the top of the page, you can't leave a good book on a shelf for long!

about the author ... Val Penny’s crime novels form the bestselling series of DI Wilson stories set in Edinburgh.

She is an American author living in SW Scotland with her husband and their cat. 

 

about the book ...  A woman’s body is found in a shallow grave on the edge of an exclusive Edinburgh golf course.  The victim bears the signs of a brutal struggle: blows to the body, marks around her throat, knees scraped raw as she fought to escape.

But there is no name.  No phone.  No one reported missing.

Detective Hunter Wilson is summoned from his regular darts night to take the call.  Two decades on the force, he’s seen plenty.  But this one gets under his skin from the start.

You can get the book Here

You can follow Val Penny on her Website or her Amazon Author Page and on Facebook  Instagram  or  Bluesky

I have a little treat for readers ...

 ... the Jacques Forêt Mysteries.  Read on...

Last week the proof copy of book seven in my cosy crime series landed on my doormat.  I was beyond overjoyed just to see the unopened package sitting there, waiting patiently to be collected and then opened.  Considering what has happened over the past twenty months or so - my original publisher deciding to quit the business, the search for another publisher, the signing of a new contract, then the sad news that my new commissioning editor was leaving his post and the publisher was restructuring and focusing on historical stories only, another search - and I was beginning to think that Meyrueis might never see the light of day.  

At one especially dark moment, as 2025 was turning into 2026, I began to wonder if any of my writing would ever find a new publishing home.  But, as one door closes, another opens, and that's what eventually happened.

Although the e-book was published on May 4th, the paperback took a little longer.  But I am very pleased to say that, following some very minor changes to the cover, the paperback edition is now live on Amazon.  And just to tempt you to consider delving into this 'complex and compelling read,' as described by a reviewer in the UK, I have a short excerpt for you.

Read on and enjoy...

le village de Meyrueis, département de la lozère

 

Madame Rose-Marie Longchamp paused at the mirror in the hallway and tugged the collar of her pristine white blouse straight. Satisfied it was perfectly placed, she smiled at her reflection. The burgundy embroidery on each collar point perfectly complemented the sage green of her linen jacket. Picking up her basket, she dropped in her purse and keys. At the open front door, she breathed in the fresh, heady scent of the stocks in the terracotta pots on each side of the small portico as the nearby river rippled its way westward to become a minor tributary of the much more impressive Tarn.

Her wicker pannier over her right arm, she stepped out into the morning sunshine as she had done for the last five-and-a-half decades. Collecting the bread and pâtisserie for the weekend was always her first and most important chore on a Friday morning. Today, even more so, as her daughter, granddaughter and the new addition to the family, another girl, would be visiting on Saturday. A catch-up with the baker and her regular dose of village gossip could not displace the current radiant smile on her pale, round face.

As she crossed the narrow stone bridge at the foot of the few steps beneath her front door, she caught a glimpse of something out of the ordinary in her peripheral vision. A hint of vibrant colour in the usually crystal-clear river water caused her to stop and peer over the low parapet. A garish ribbon of vermillion streaked across and between the stones on the riverbed. The scream that originated in the pit of her stomach ripped through the still silence of the morning and brought the baker running to his open shop doorway a few metres distant.

 

the village of meyrueis, lozère,

friday, august 2^nd, 2019, 07.31

You can get the book Here

There will be more from the book next month.  Watch this space.

Today, I'm celebrating Bloomsday ...

 ... and if you're not entirely sure what that means, then read on …

The Irish author, James Joyce (February 2nd, 1882 - January 13th, 1941), was controversial during his life and remains so since his death.  His work has been questioned and debated for decades, as have his politics and his personal beliefs.  For me personally, he is a writer of great talent and insight, a personality of significant complexity and intellect, and one of the 20th century's greatest writers.  Born in Dublin, he was the eldest of ten children, and although the heart of his writing remained in that city, he spent the vast majority of his life living and travelling in Europe.

His body of work that exists today is perhaps not as large as that of many other authors, but it is significant and is still constantly reinterpreted and debated.  His short stories – Dubliners - are quite well known and often appear on school syllabi.  His shorter novels – Stephen Hero, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, and Finnegans Wake – are also reasonably well known and still studied.  His poetry still finds its way into collections, but his only play, Exiles, is rarely, if ever, mentioned or staged.  It was rejected by W B Yeats upon publication in 1918, and the first London production was staged by Harold Pinter at the Mermaid Theatre in 1970.  It is rarely, if ever, played, and Padraic Colum – a contemporary of Joyce – dismissed the play because it had ‘the shape of an Ibsen’ and therefore could be viewed as a derivative of the Scandinavian's works.

But there is also Ulysses, Joyce’s longest and most challenging work.  That book is the reason why today is Bloomsday.  I started reading Ulysses as a teenager and as background for A Portrait, which was on my exam syllabus.  I kept my second-hand copy secreted away in a cupboard because the book had been banned previously.  Indeed, it wasn’t even available for publication in the UK until the 1930’s.  At school, the book was like gold dust.  The boys wanted to read it because it had been banned.  Some of the other girls took a marmite approach – it was either loved or hated - and others just wanted to see if it really didn’t have punctuation as rumoured.  And on that point, yes, it does have punctuation, but not for all sections, and there’s a reason for that.

As for me, I just wondered at the excellence of the wordplay, the wit and the concept of the book.  All the action of the story takes place on June 16th, 1904.  The basic story of the book is that of the three principal characters, Leopold Bloom, Molly Bloom and Stephen Dedalus, all of whom appear in other works.  The book isn’t just about who did what to whom in order to further the plot.  The text looks at the thoughts, feelings, motives, and the innermost subconscious of the characters as they move through their single day.

I have always found the structure of this book fascinating.  It’s not neatly divided into sentences, paragraphs, scenes, and chapters.  Indeed, some sections look and read as though they are stage plays or TV scripts.  There’s so much in this book that each time I pick it up to check something, or to read a section, I see something new, something I haven’t thought of, or noticed before, a tiny detail that has suddenly become obvious, a new enigma or puzzle for me to solve.

The book took Joyce over seven years to complete, during which time he had lived in three different cities.  Although it was partially serialised in an American literary magazine between 1918 and 1920, it wasn’t actually published as a single and complete volume until 1922, by which time Joyce was living in Paris.  There were numerous reprintings and revisions prompted by Joyce.

As a collector I was stunned to see a ‘first’ edition of Joyce’s Ulysses on display in a glass case in a library I visited some years ago.  Trying to find a definitive edition for my own collection was almost impossible, as well as financially unattainable.  However, I do have my facsimile of the 1926 edition, which sits on one of my many bookshelves.

May I wish all Joyce fans a fabulous Bloomsday today.

I always know when it's summer because the Newark Book Festival ...

 … has finally arrived on my blog.  Read on for more detailed info ...

This year, the tenth anniversary, the Newark Book Festival will run from July 9th through to July 12th. As with previous festivals, there will be plenty of events happening all over town during those four days.

Along with workshops, author interviews, children's events, and music, there will also be an amazing Book Fair.  In the Market Place, there will be loads of book stalls and I will be there, too, with my colleague Gianetta Murray.

So, please do join us on Saturday, July 11th, in the Market Place, Newark, NG24 1DU.

We will be there all day from 09.30 am.  We will be signing and selling books. 

I will have all of my Jacques Forêt Mysteries with me.  So, if you would like to chat about France, the Cévennes, the stories, or even Jacques himself, please drop by and say hello.  I will also be able to give you the latest info on the next book in the series.

I will be bringing the three fabulous Miss Moonshine anthologies as well.  If you are in need of a feel-good, heart-warming read for the summer, then these collections of gentle stories will see you through the holidays.  They are ideal for a cuppa, taking a bit of me-time whilst the kids are busy elsewhere, and enjoying a well-written, uplifting tale.

Gianetta Murray, author of A Supernatural Shindig, an anthology and the Vivien Brandt Mysteries, will also be at the fair with her books.  I’m sure Gianetta will be only too pleased to chat about how the work on her next book is shaping up.

In addition, we will have the multi-genre miscellanies of tales from the Seasonal Paths Collection. All four are now available in print and E-format.  We will also have Earth, the first in a new series of anthologies based on the elements, Earth, Air, Fire, and Water.

It would be great to see you there if you can make it.

Full details of all events are on the Book Festival website which you can access Here

We are hoping for excellent weather, and we look forward to chatting to visitors...

I’m continuing my journey following the Granville-Paris Express …

… and I’m now in Briouze, a small town only 19 kilometres from Flers, my last stop, in the département of Orne (61). Read on …

The D924 from Flers follows the route of the railway to Briouze. According to the novel The Paris Express, the train that ran on October 22nd, 1895, took twenty-one minutes to make the journey.  For a steam train, that’s probably quite good going.  But what I found particularly interesting in this chapter were some of the comments between the characters about the pros and cons of speed and the invasion of constant communications.  I had to wonder what those same characters would say if they had been able to see into the 21st century with our high-speed electric trains, our social media and the World Wide Web!

Briouze is a small town with a population of around 1,500 people, which, like Flers, has been in steady decline since the mid-nineteen-seventies.  The stop here in 1895 was unscheduled, and it was so that one of the deputies for Orne could join the train.  However, rather than sitting in first with the other passengers, this deputy and his wife have their own custom-made carriage, which has to be hitched to the train immediately behind the existing first-class carriages.  This causes the driver and his stoker some consternation.  They are already six minutes late when they come to a stop.  Their pay is affected if they arrive late in Paris, and the stoker has to maintain boiler pressure to ensure the extra weight can be managed effectively on the up and down slopes.   All of which adds to the tension of the journey.

For my little foray around town, I leave the car in the central square dominated by the church dedicated to St Gervais and St Protais.  A quick check of the entrances, and I find a door that is open.  Built between 1080 and 1093 at the behest of Guillaume de Briouze, it is beautifully preserved.  The stained-glass windows don’t look original to me, and, as a result, the interior feels very light and airy.

Outside again, and as the church clock strikes noon, I realise I need to explore the streets to find something for lunch.  A few metres away, there is a boulangerie, and it’s tartelette-au-fraise for me.  A bench in the shade and a half hour to contemplate the exterior of the church and listen to the silence of the place.  Not a single car passes through.  Only an elderly lady appears from a nearby house, a shopping basket hanging over her arm as she makes her way to the baker's.  She’s probably been making that trip every day for decades.

Lunch over.  I look for signs to the station, and that’s when the confusion begins.  There are signs, it’s just that they both point in completely different directions.  I follow the route to the left first and come across the railway tracks that used to be there!  Now it’s a cycle path.  But the old station or maybe the old signal box is now a lovely little three-story house.  Madame sees me staring at her abode and asks me if I’m lost.  I tell her I’m looking for the station.  ‘It’s over there,’ she says, pointing down the cycle track.  ‘The other side of town.’  I thank her and ask for a photo of her house.  She looks bemused but nods her permission anyway.

A trot along the cycle path takes me past a grove of trees and brings me to a brand-new, all-modern, personless, fully functioning station with about 6 or 8 rail tracks in front of it.  As I look down the line, I see something much more in keeping with late-nineteenth-century rail accessories, and I continue following the track.  The original station, still intact, is now a hub for creatives and the use of the townspeople.  I look around the car park, and considering the town is so quiet, there are far more cars parked here than I expected.

Retracing my steps, I follow the brown signs to the château, which once belonged to Guillaume, the baron who magnanimously commissioned the church.  I also discover that he accompanied his namesake to Britain in 1066 and was awarded land in England as a result. As for the château, it is a building of modest proportions and grounds that now functions as the town hall.

I meander back to the car and note the modern juxtaposed with the old.  Another town that was flattened in the forties…

There will be more from my journey following the Granville-Paris Express next month, so keep watching this space…

You can find the previous posts in this series by clicking the links Granville part 1, Granville part 2, Vire, Flers and my review of the book, The Paris Express is Here  

I'm reviewing The Seventh Son ...

... by Sebastian Faulks.  A fascinating and thought-provoking read...

Set in the not-too-distant future, this story introduces the reader to a slightly different world and explores the nature and extent of genetic engineering.  The story gently introduces the reader to the trials and tribulations in the life of central character, Talissa.  At a crossroads in her career and in need of funds, she decides to take a year out to become a surrogate mother for a childless couple, Alaric and Mary.  She applies to an eminent institute where in vitro fertilisation is available for anyone with enough cash.  The Institute is also part of a wider organisation that undertakes research and genetic engineering.
The action then shifts to a conversation between Lukas Parn – a wealthy scientist and owner of the institute and research labs that Talissa will use – and one of his colleagues in the same field.  And it is at this very early point in the story that a seemingly innocent remark foreshadows the catalogue of sinister events that will follow.  ‘I want to do an experiment,’ says Parn.  ‘I want to prove something.’  From here onwards, the tension gradually begins to build.  I found that I could not put this book down.
The narrative, as easily readable as it is, flows really well with a constant backdrop of ever-increasing fear for Talissa and the child she is carrying and for the parents who will adopt that child – Seth, a name that is full of meaning in the context of the story, which I will explore in a following paragraph.  Once Seth is born and delivered to his eagerly awaiting parents, he becomes yet another source of concern for the reader.  Wanting to know what happened to Seth kept me turning the page, to the extent that I read the final two-thirds of the book in one day.
As the child was born and named, I could not help but wonder why he was called Seth.  It seemed such an odd choice for the parents to make, and yes, there is a veiled justification in the text.  But when you consider the Hebrew origins of the name - which means 'appointed', 'placed', or 'put' – you understand that the choice is not random at all.  Add in the ancient Egyptian root – Set, the god of desert storms and chaos – and yet another facet of Seth's character is amplified.  Looking at the biblical connections gives us yet more.  Seth was a replacement son for Adam and Eve after Abel died.  According to biblical genealogy, he was an ancestor of Noah, thereby placing him in a unique position in relation to the story of the ark and the saving of humanity from the floods.  Whilst I fully understand that the stories in the Bible are just that – an explanation of who and  what we were at that time stated in the language and manner of the time – I cannot help but see the parallels between the story of creation and our current capability for genetic engineering.  In many respects, that realisation makes this book one of the most chilling I have ever read.
Towards the end of the story, there is yet another dilemma for the reader, and the ending was not what I was expecting.  This is a disturbing, thought-provoking, but excellent read that fully deserves the five-star rating I have awarded.

If you enjoyed this review you may be interested in my thoughts about Snow Country  or Paris Echo  both by Faulks, or Cursed Bread by Sophie Mackintosh...

I'm continuing my journey following the Granville-Paris Express ...

... and today I'm in Flers, a town in the département of Orne (61) which is part of the region of Normandy.  Read on …

Flers is a typical northern town.  The D524 follows the route of the railway from Vire to the centre of Flers.  The population is around 14,500 and has been in a steady decline since the mid nineteen-seventies.  Not that you would notice this from a stroll through town.  On the day of my visit, it was Ascension Thursday, and the town was very quiet as this is one of the few holy days still remaining in the catholic calendar.  Most of the little shops were closed – apart from the bakeries, of course!  But in and around the church of St-Germain, the streets were lined with empty cars and just as I approached the steps to the main entrance, a sea of people emerged.  The quiet was disturbed, and suddenly the town came alive as families and friends began chatting.  I decided to leave them all to it.  Once a conversation starts in France, who knows how long it will take!

I make my way to the railway station, and I’m very surprised to see the original building still standing.  Built and inaugurated in 1866, it is a single-storied symmetrical building very much of its time and fashion.  Considering the blanket bombing that took place across this area of France in the nineteen-forties, it is something of a little miracle that this station has survived.

As I meander through town, the destruction caused by the bombing is much more obvious. Modern housing and business premises are interspersed with the oddity of a single building from the twenties or thirties.  A park surrounded by individual homes and gardens, mostly modern or recreations of an earlier style, with one sole property that had been there since it was built in the mid-nineteenth century.  At one corner of the park, I come across the war memorial, dedicated to those who gave their lives in the 1914-1918 conflict.  It, too, has survived the destruction that occurred in the forties, along with the chapel of remembrance, built between 1926 and 1932.

My stroll takes me back to the church.  And still some stragglers are standing on the steps continuing their conversation.  I nod and walk past and step into the silence of the neo-gothic nave.  Built in the early 20th century, it has the height and looks every centimetre of style from that much earlier period, when building an edifice this size would have taken decades rather than a few years.  Nevertheless, it is impressive, and the modern take on the art of the ancients who created the stunning stained glass of some of the most revered places in Christendom is a breathtaking meander through modern art.  The church interior opens up other windows on history.  There’s a small chapel dedicated to those who gave their lives in the Maquis and a second memorial to a man who was persecuted for his religion – Catholicism.

Back outside again, and the weather has taken on a chill, grey clouds are skudding across the sky, the talkers have left, and the last of the returnees are moving along the main street on their way home to lunch.

I have one last place to visit, and it’s just a few steps from St-Germain.  The covered market is a magnificent red-brick building that dates from 1883.  As it’s Ascension Thursday, the market is well and truly closed, but I can’t help but take as close a look as I can get.  I make a note to return on a market day when I’m next in this area.  There is also a fortified château here, which has become the town’s museum, and it is also closed.  I’ll save that for another visit on another day ...

There will be more from my journey following the Granville-Paris Express next month.

If you enjoyed this post, you can find the previous posts by clicking the links Granville part 1, Granville part 2, Vire, and my review of the book, The Paris Express, is Here