Kirjahaku

Reviewers said: "Five stars Delightfully entertaining, rich characters, suspenseful, charming all in one; anxiously awaiting the next one ""a fascinating tale set in England in the 1930s. This 'cosy crime' novel, with its measure of burgeoning romance, is a good read; something to entertain and satisfy in front of a burning log fire in the dark days of winter. The settings and period detail are excellent...The denouement is swift, tense and satisfying...""I was worried to read this as I didn't think it would be as good as the Criss Cross series... but I needn't have fussed as it was again simply brilliant.""Dottie Manderson is a gorgeous character...A great read and I'm looking forward to catching up with more of Dottie."The Mantle of God: Dottie Manderson mysteries book 2: a romantic traditional cosy mysteryCan a tiny piece of faded cloth really be worth killing for? Is the past ever truly forgotten? A friend asks Dottie Manderson to find out more about a scrap of fabric found in a dead man's pocket. But as soon as she starts to ask questions, things begin to happen. It's not long before someone dies, and Dottie wonders if she may be next. Can the insignificant scrap really be a clue to a bloody time of religious hatred and murder?Join Dottie as she works to uncover the truth of a distant past, whilst uncovering secrets held by her own closest friends and family. Can Inspector Hardy put the murderer behind bars before it's too late? Setting aside his own personal tragedy, Hardy has to get behind the polite fa ade of 1930s London society to find a killer. Introducing a new 1930s female sleuth in a traditional, cozy mystery series set in Britain between the two World Wars, fromCaron Allan, the writer of Criss Cross, Cross Check, and Check Mate, a murderous contemporary trilogy.Buy The Mantle of God: Dottie Manderson mysteries book 2 for a romantic, suspenseful read in the traditional amateur detective sleuth genre.Extract from The Mantle of God: Dottie Manderson mysteries book 2 Hardy went into the sitting room and found the Major there, standing by the window looking out, his thin shoulders heaving with the weight of his grief. There seemed nothing to say. Hardy's very presence told him everything. Hardy stood in the doorway and wondered what to do next.'How' Hardy cleared his throat, and said softly, 'I'm afraid it appears she was hit over the head.'Medhurst nodded. After a pause he said, 'These little hats the girls all wear nowadays, no protection.''No indeed, ' Hardy replied, belatedly remembering to remove his own hat. He took a seat. The chessboard had been set up again, a match was already in progress. No doubt a new game had been started after he had taken his leave the previous evening.'When can I see her' Hardy was startled when Major Medhurst spoke suddenly right beside him. Tears ran unchecked down the man's face. He was wringing his hands, his fingers restless and trembling.'Not today, ' Hardy said.

Scotch Mist Reviewers said: "Five stars Delightfully entertaining, rich characters, suspenseful, charming all in one; anxiously awaiting the next one ""a fascinating tale set in England in the 1930s. This 'cosy crime' novel, with its measure of burgeoning romance, is a good read; something to entertain and satisfy in front of a burning log fire in the dark days of winter. The settings and period detail are excellent...The denouement is swift, tense and satisfying...""I received this on a Friday and could not put it down - goodbye housework - not for too long though as I was so enthralled I finished it Saturday evening.""I was worried to read this as I didn't think it would be as good as the Criss Cross series... but I needn't have fussed as it was again simply brilliant.""Dottie Manderson is a gorgeous character...A great read and I'm looking forward to catching up with more of Dottie."Scotch Mist: a Dottie Manderson mystery novella After the funeral of her friend and mentor Mrs Carmichael, Dottie Manderson is sent on a mission to find the dead woman's missing son and to inform him of the death of a mother he never knew. Unbeknown to her, Dottie's close friend Inspector William Hardy has also been sent on a mission, one that will force him to confront his past. His conversation with the late Mrs Carmichael has opened up questions about his father he would prefer not to ask. A sentimental lawyer has plans to bring Dottie and William together, acting on Mrs Carmichael's bequest. But after a personal tragedy and some hectic months in his new role, is Inspector Hardy ready for romance? Perhaps if no one got murdered, he could think about other things? Introducing a new 1930s female sleuth in a traditional, cozy mystery series set in Britain between the two World Wars, from Caron Allan, the writer of Criss Cross, Cross Check, and Check Mate, a murderous contemporary trilogy.Buy Scotch Mist: a Dottie Manderson mystery novellafor a romantic, suspenseful read in the traditional amateur detective sleuth genre. Extract from Scotch Mist: a Dottie Manderson mystery novella It was just after half past ten when he finally reached his room. He had a bath in lukewarm water and got changed, thinking to go downstairs to find the landlord and see whether he had heard any gossip about Mr Denholme's problems. But suddenly weary, he lay down on his bed, fully clothed, and at once fell asleep.He was not allowed to sleep for long, however. Almost immediately, or so it seemed to him, someone began to pound on his door, calling out in a thunderous voice fit to wake the dead, 'Hardy? Are you there? William Hardy 'From across the corridor came an answering yap from another guest room.Drunk with weariness, Hardy stumbled to the door, only managing to call out a quick, 'Yes, yes, I'm coming, I'm coming, ' as he fumbled with the lock and the handle. The door opened almost of its own volition, and as Hardy looked up, bewildered, he had only time to note a large man filling the doorway before the man's fist connected with Hardy's cheek and everything went black.Buy Scotch Mist: a Dottie Manderson mystery novellafor a romantic, suspenseful read in the traditional amateur detective sleuth genre.

Reviewers said: "Five stars Delightfully entertaining, rich characters, suspenseful, charming all in one; anxiously awaiting the next one ""a fascinating tale set in England in the 1930s. This 'cosy crime' novel, with its measure of burgeoning romance, is a good read; something to entertain and satisfy in front of a burning log fire in the dark days of winter. The settings and period detail are excellent...The denouement is swift, tense and satisfying...""I received this on a Friday and could not put it down - goodbye housework - not for too long though as I was so enthralled I finished it Saturday evening.""Dottie Manderson is a gorgeous character...A great read and I'm looking forward to catching up with more of Dottie."The Last Perfect Summer of Richard Dawlish: Dottie Manderson mysteries book 4A few days rest is just what Dottie needs. It's not long before she makes the acquaintance of Penny Parfitt, and her attractive brother-in-law Gervase and accepts their invitation to spend a few days in the country. Quickly Dottie realises that secrets and intrigues lurk beneath the pleasant surface of their lives. A suicide years earlier casts a shadow. Was it really suicide? Dottie begins to think something sinister has taken place.But after all this time, can she find out what really happened?Introducing a new 1930s female sleuth in a traditional, cozy mystery series set in Britain between the two World Wars, from Caron Allan, the writer of Criss Cross, Cross Check, and Check Mate, a murderous contemporary trilogy.Extract from The Last Perfect Summer of Richard Dawlish: Dottie Manderson mysteries book 4 The war, Richard Dawlish, reflected might never have happened.The group of young people were sprawled on the steps, chatting and drinking beer.'Hello Dickie-boy ' Arthur Parfitt called and cackled at his own hilariousness. He was clearly completely drunk. 'Don't call him that, you know he doesn't like it, Artie.' Miranda snapped.'Oh Miranda, I'm cut to the core by your marvellous jibe Though actually I refer to be called Artie. It's better than Arthur. Anyway, Dickie knows it's just a bit of fun, don't you Dickie-Dick-Dickie'Richard ignored him. He accepted a bottle from one of the other girls. Beyond her, Algy and Deirdre were kissing with complete abandon. Richard hoped things wouldn't get out of hand. Miranda's little sister Penny was there, a kid who looked as out of place as Richard. She was too young to be drinking. He'd give it half an hour, walk Penny back then make his escape.He drank the beer, and another. Miranda took his hand and drew him into the copse amid catcalls and jeers.They were gone for twenty minutes, returning sullen and silent. Richard asked Penny if she wanted to go back. They set off.Next morning, the Maynards' staff surveyed the scene of the party. The house was a mess, the lawn was hardly less so.George Blake went to the pavilion to clear up after the youngsters. He was pleased, it meant he could have a cigarette. It was a perfect morning. As he neared the pavilion, something caught his eye. The body of Richard Dawlish, hanging from a branch of the copper beech tree.BuyThe Last Perfect Summer of Richard Dawlish: Dottie Manderson mysteries book 4for a romantic, suspenseful read in the traditional amateur detective sleuth genre.

Recenzenci napisali: "Pięc gwiazdek Zachwycająco zabawne, bogate postacie, pelne napięcia fabula, wszystko czarujące. Z niecierpliwością oczekuję na następną książkę ""Fascynująca historia rozgrywająca się w Anglii w latach 30-tych. Ta przytulna kryminalna powieśc, z tlem rozkwitającego romansu, to naprawdę dobra książka; coś, co idealnie pasuje do plonącego kominka i mrocznych, zimowych wieczor w. Tempo opowieści jest wartkie, a calośc trzyma w napięciu. Bardzo satysfakcjonująca lektura...""Otrzymalem książkę w piątek i wprost nie moglam się od niej oderwac - zaplanowana praca domowa musiala poczekac. Bylam tak oczarowana, że skończylam czytac w sobotę wieczorem.""Nie spodziewalam się, że ta prosta nowelka ta bardzo wciągnie mnie w swoje fascynujące klimaty. Po raz kolejny autorka nie zawiodla mojego zaufania. Genialne arcydzielo ""Dottie Manderson to cudowna postac... Świetna lektura Nie mogę się doczekac, żeby przeczytac o dalszych losach mojej ulubionej książkowej bohaterki."Londyn, listopad 1933. Dottie Manderson natyka się na cialo umierającego czlowieka na pustej, nocnej ulicy. Czekając na pomoc, trzyma go za rękę i pr buje zmusic go, by powiedzial jej, co się stalo. On, ostatnim tchnieniem śpiewa do niej kilka linijek popularnego przedstawienia scenicznego. Ta sytuacja daje Dottie dużo do myślenia. Dlaczego mialby do niej śpiewac, zamiast przekazac ostatnie przeslanie do swoich ukochanych? Dlaczego nie nazwal swojego napastnika?Dottie musi poznac odpowiedzi na te pytania i mimo że pewien szczeg lny, bardzo irytujący mlody policjant prowadzi dochodzenie w tej sprawie, czuje się zmuszona do przeprowadzenia wlasnego śledztwa w sprawie tajemniczej śmierci.Przedstawiamy nową kobiecą lekturę o tajemniczej i mrocznej fabule, osadzoną w latach 30-tych, rozgrywającą się w tradycyjnym, brytyjskim spoleczeństwie w Wielkiej Brytanii w okresie międzywojennym, autorstwa Carona Allana, tw rcy Criss Cross, Cross Check i Check Mate, morderczej wsp lczesnej trylogii.Fragment "Noc i dzień tajemnica Dottie Manderson" Dźwięk dosięgnąl jej ponownie. Trochę glośniejszy, trochę bardziej natarczywy. Brzmial prawie jak...Ktoś tam byl - mężczyzna - leżący na chodniku. Poczula, jak delikatnie drży ze strachu.A może to pijak? Może powinna wejśc na ulicę i ostrożnie go obejśc, zachowując dystans...Jego glowa bardzo powoli się poruszyla. Twarz byla blada i owalna w przycmionym świetle latarni. Zauważyla, że jego usta r wnież się poruszyly. To on wydawal ten dziwny dźwięk. A więc to byl jednak pijak. Śpiewal do siebie cichym, świszczącym szeptem. Zdolala uchwycic jego przybliżoną melodię i nawet kiedy dostrzegla plamę krwi na przodzie jego koszuli, częśc niej nadal podpowiadala jej, że zna tę piosenkę.Zapomniala o strachu i zaraz do niego podbiegla.-- Co się stalo? Wszystko w porządku? -- zapytala, a zaraz po tym zganila się za zadawanie tak glupich pytań. Przecież to oczywiste, że nic nie bylo w porządku. Uklękla obok niego i wyciągnęla rękę, żeby go obadac.Byl dosyc mlody, ale na pewno starszy niż jej dziewiętnaście lat. Z pewnością jednak nie mial więcej niż trzydzieści parę lat. Jego wlosy byly calkiem jasne, delikatnie przerzedzone, ale ciemne od deszczu. Mial malego wąsa, kt ry byl teraz ostatnim krzykiem mody. Blękitne oczy, tak blękitne jak u dziecka, a on sam wyglądal na zdziwionego. Po jego wytwornym stroju wieczorowym wywnioskowala, że byl dobrze sytuowany, ale nie byla w stanie go rozpoznac.Ale ta krew, ach, tyle krwi...

Reviewers said: "Five stars Delightfully entertaining, rich characters, suspenseful, charming all in one; anxiously awaiting the next one ""a fascinating tale set in England in the 1930s. This 'cosy crime' novel... is a good read; something to entertain and satisfy... The settings and period detail are excellent...The denouement is swift, tense and satisfying...""Dottie Manderson is a gorgeous character...A great read and I'm looking forward to catching up with more of Dottie."When Dottie gives new beau Gervase Parfitt his marching orders because of his recent appalling behaviour, she doesn't realise that very soon, she will be pleading with him to take her back, just so she can help old flame Inspector William Hardy with an investigation.Gervase may be pompous and annoying, but surely he's not actually BAD, is he? Dottie can hardly believe what she's been told. But meeting some of the people he has wronged, she becomes determined to succeed in making sure that justice is served.Extract from The Spy Within Mrs Sedgworth knew she had called the right person. She looked over her shoulder to make sure she was alone, and dropping her voice, she said, 'Please help me, Mr Parfitt. I've had an accident with my car. I-I've hit someone. I rather think he may be dead.'Parfitt was with her in less than fifteen minutes. His calm manner and gentle understanding soothed her. Guiltily, she realised that in the past she had rather snubbed him, but in a crisis, he was clearly admirable. She made a mental note, when this awful evening was over, to make sure to invite him to her next dinner party.'Oh, Mr Parfitt He came out of nowhere, I just didn't know what to do, or where to turn.'He smiled gravely at her. 'There, there, Mrs Sedgworth, ' he said, scenting the alcohol on her. 'Don't distress yourself. Unfortunately these things do happen from time to time, nobody's fault, a dark lane, late at night. Only to be expected.''And is he really...''Just leave it to me, Mrs Sedgworth. Try not to think about it.''Oh it's just terrible What on earth will I tell my husband? What about the police' That sudden thought alarmed her. She clutched at Gervase's jacket. 'I can't go to prison I just can't ' Her voice was rising in panic.He fought down the urge to slap her, and said with another of his grave smiles, 'My dear Mrs Sedgworth, just you leave it all to me. I am the police, after all. And I know you didn't mean it to happen. Just leave everything to me, and I promise, no one will ever hear a word of it from me. There's nothing to worry about.''Oh Mr Parfitt, you're so kind, ' she said, and began to cry.Repressing a shudder, he handed her a handkerchief. 'There, there, my dear. I'll take you home presently. But first I need to speak with the farmer, to use his phone.''Oh he's not at home, ' Mrs Sedgworth said. 'Just his wife and son.''I believe I saw him go in the back door a moment ago. Never you mind about that, anyway, come and sit in my car and keep warm, and I'll be back in moment.''Oh Mr Parfitt ' she said again. She felt so grateful. He was the perfect person to help her out of this awful mess. He was after all, the assistant chief constable.Buy The Spy Within: Dottie Manderson mysteries: book 6for a romantic, suspenseful read in the traditional amateur detective sleuth genre.

Reviewers said: "Five stars Delightfully entertaining, rich characters, suspenseful, charming all in one; anxiously awaiting the next one ""a fascinating tale set in England in the 1930s. This 'cosy crime' novel, with its measure of burgeoning romance, is a good read; something to entertain and satisfy in front of a burning log fire in the dark days of winter. The settings and period detail are excellent...The denouement is swift, tense and satisfying...""I received this on a Friday and could not put it down - goodbye housework - not for too long though as I was so enthralled I finished it Saturday evening.""I was worried to read this as I didn't think it would be as good as the Criss Cross series... but I needn't have fussed as it was again simply brilliant.""Dottie Manderson is a gorgeous character...A great read and I'm looking forward to catching up with more of Dottie."The Thief of St Martins: Dottie Manderson mysteries book 5We last saw Dottie in the Summer of 1934, discovering that her mother was in fact really her aunt, and that she was the secret, shameful daughter of her mother's sister, her 'aunt' Cecilia Cowdrey. Some months later, hoping to come to terms with this revelation, Dottie tentatively accepts an invitation to spend a few days with Cecilia and her husband Lewis Cowdrey over New Year.Confusion over the date she should arrive makes the visit a disaster from the outset. Dottie comes to a house full of secrets and lies, of jealousy, bitterness and selfish ambition. Add into the mix a sneak thief stealing any small valuable items, and the stage is set for disaster.Who will help Dottie to discover the truth: her soon-to-be fianc , the eminent Gervase Parfitt, or the ordinary policeman who loves her, Inspector William Hardy?Introducing a new 1930s female sleuth in a traditional, cozy mystery series set in Britain between the two World Wars, from Caron Allan, the writer of Criss Cross, Cross Check, and Check Mate, a murderous contemporary trilogy.Buy The Thief of St Martins: Dottie Manderson mysteries book 5 for a romantic, suspenseful read in the traditional amateur detective sleuth genre.

Review: Dottie Manderson is a gorgeous character--sassy, bright and modern (for the 1930s, that is) and very relatable. She's partnered with a detective and you just know this is going to play out satisfyingly in a 'will they/won't they' way. There's a Cluedo feel to the whole story, and I love it for that. A great read and I'm looking forward to catching up with more of Dottie, Flora et al.'London, November 1933.Dottie Manderson stumbles upon the body of a dying man in a deserted night-time street. As she waits for help to arrive, she holds the man's hand and tries to get him to tell her what happened. But with his last breaths he sings to her some lines from a popular stage show. But why, Dottie wonders? Why would he sing to her instead of sending a final message to his loved ones? Why didn't he name his attacker?Dottie needs to know the answers to these questions and so, even though a particular, very annoying, young policeman is investigating the case officially, she feels compelled to carry out her own investigation into the mysterious death.Introducing a new 1930s female sleuth in a traditional, cozy mystery series set in London between the two world wars, from Caron Allan, the writer of Criss Cross, Cross Check and Check Mate.Buy Night and day: a Dottie Manderson mystery now and find out just who killed Archie Dunne, and just how many eligible bachelors are on Dottie's mother's list.Extract from chapter one: When she arrived at the top of the steps, and put out her hand to take hold of the knocker, just like in a horror film the door creaked slowly open by itself to reveal a dark hallway. Dottie felt an extreme reluctance to enter, the cheerful note had gone. In fact, as soon as the door had begun to move, chills ran down her spine and her scalp prickled.Her stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch. She knew she should leave, she felt something was wrong. But to all outward--and sensible--appearances, there was no cause for alarm, other than the light being out in the hall and the front door standing slightly ajar. She paused for a moment and took a calming breath. Her stomach lurched again; she had never felt this frightened before, and never on such small evidence.She waited for her eyes to adjust to the low level of light, but even after a full minute, could still discern nothing. She took a step back again and looked about her, glancing up and down the almost deserted street and wondering. She could still hear the soft sound of a waltz, clearly coming from the drawing-room. She pushed thoughts of Cyril out of her head, crushing down a sudden memory of dancing with him, and she was cross with herself for thinking of him at a time like this. Her anger steadied her and she was able to think.Perhaps she ought to try to find a neighbour, or go down the road to find a policeman walking the beat, and get him to come back with her. She need only say she was worried about her friend, or that she was nervous of the dark. She was fairly sure anyone would understand and offer to help her. Everyone knew that London policemen were the kindest and most helpful in the whole world.But something determined rose up in her and told her not to be such a ninny. No wonder men think they can lie and cheat and go off and marry American heiresses if you go about being a delicate wilting little hothouse-flower, she told herself. So she straightened her shoulders and put up her chin and took a good strong grip on her bag and put a smile on her face. She pushed the door wide open and called out cheerily, 'Hello Susan ' as she stepped into the hall. *