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Charlie's latest newsletter
Mar. 13th, 2020 09:33 pmBy now I should have been in my hotel room in Rome, eagerly awaiting the Six Nations clash between Italy and England. As it is, I’m getting my stuff ready to pack for going off to Ramsgate in sunny (maybe) Kent, the garden of England. I visited there when I was about six and in my mind it’s a magical place. I dare say the reality will be different. I’ll be blogging about my adventures at my website.
News
Books are like buses. None for ages and then three all at the same time. Almost. Lessons in Following a Poisonous Trail is first up and available for pre-order, for a release date of 6th April.
Then I’ve a short story in Given in Evidence: A Collection of Short Crime & Thriller Stories from Lume books (the new name for Endeavour Media, who have the Cambridge Fellows books.) Pre-orders for that go live on April 10th and it goes live on May 1st.
Then later in May the next Lindenshaw mystery – A Carriage of Misjustice – hits the shelves. I’ll post the link when I have it.
Here’s a smidge of Robin and Adam's blissful domesticity before murder sets in
“Right. We have work to do.”
“So we have.”
The cottage three doors down was owned by a fiercely independent lady in her seventies, whom they’d told that if she ever needed anything done round the house or garden that didn’t need technical skill, just a touch of brawn, she shouldn’t hesitate to call on them. It would have to be serious for her to call in that offer, and the loss of three fence panels in a storm two days previously would come into that category. They’d take Campbell—Mrs. Haig doted on him—and the pair of them could supervise Adam and Robin while they repaired the old panels and shifted them back into place. The fact that Mrs. Haig’s boiled fruit cake was legendary, turned an act of kindness into a positive pleasure.
They got into their working clothes and set off.
An hour, a cup of tea, and a large slab of cake later, the old panels were out and the new ones ready to be installed.
“You’re doing a grand job, there,” Mrs. Haig said. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“It’s a pleasure. Better than marking books or catching criminals.” Adam gave his husband a wink. “Neither of us take enough exercise.”
“I used to watch you running with Campbell.” She scratched the dog’s ear. “I suppose you’re too busy for that these days.”
“You’re right. We tend to take him for a walk together, don’t we?”
“Yes,” Robin replied. “It makes sure we spend time together, too.” They had no need to hide their relationship from their hostess. Her brother was gay, a stalwart of musical chorus lines in London.
“You could join the church choir,” she suggested. “They always need tenors.”
“I’d love to, but I’d always be ringing Martin up to say I couldn’t make the practices. Armed robbery to sort out or whatever.”
Adam hid his grin in his teacup. The choirmaster fancied Robin and barely hid it.
“Yes, I suppose so.” Mrs. Haig frowned. “You work too hard, the pair of you. And here’s me eating into your weekend.”
Adam shook his head. “This isn’t work, it’s play.” And the sight of Robin in an old t-shirt, muscles rippling and working up a sweat was a sight to enjoy. Adam gave him an affectionate glance, which was immediately returned.
“These panels won’t install themselves,” Robin said hastily, perhaps with half a mind on some less strenuous but highly enjoyable activity that could go on later, assuming they weren’t too tired.
And finally – a bright winter moon over Cochrane Central. Soon it'll be spring, honest.
Charlie
News
Books are like buses. None for ages and then three all at the same time. Almost. Lessons in Following a Poisonous Trail is first up and available for pre-order, for a release date of 6th April.
Then I’ve a short story in Given in Evidence: A Collection of Short Crime & Thriller Stories from Lume books (the new name for Endeavour Media, who have the Cambridge Fellows books.) Pre-orders for that go live on April 10th and it goes live on May 1st.
Then later in May the next Lindenshaw mystery – A Carriage of Misjustice – hits the shelves. I’ll post the link when I have it.
Here’s a smidge of Robin and Adam's blissful domesticity before murder sets in
“Right. We have work to do.”
“So we have.”
The cottage three doors down was owned by a fiercely independent lady in her seventies, whom they’d told that if she ever needed anything done round the house or garden that didn’t need technical skill, just a touch of brawn, she shouldn’t hesitate to call on them. It would have to be serious for her to call in that offer, and the loss of three fence panels in a storm two days previously would come into that category. They’d take Campbell—Mrs. Haig doted on him—and the pair of them could supervise Adam and Robin while they repaired the old panels and shifted them back into place. The fact that Mrs. Haig’s boiled fruit cake was legendary, turned an act of kindness into a positive pleasure.
They got into their working clothes and set off.
An hour, a cup of tea, and a large slab of cake later, the old panels were out and the new ones ready to be installed.
“You’re doing a grand job, there,” Mrs. Haig said. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“It’s a pleasure. Better than marking books or catching criminals.” Adam gave his husband a wink. “Neither of us take enough exercise.”
“I used to watch you running with Campbell.” She scratched the dog’s ear. “I suppose you’re too busy for that these days.”
“You’re right. We tend to take him for a walk together, don’t we?”
“Yes,” Robin replied. “It makes sure we spend time together, too.” They had no need to hide their relationship from their hostess. Her brother was gay, a stalwart of musical chorus lines in London.
“You could join the church choir,” she suggested. “They always need tenors.”
“I’d love to, but I’d always be ringing Martin up to say I couldn’t make the practices. Armed robbery to sort out or whatever.”
Adam hid his grin in his teacup. The choirmaster fancied Robin and barely hid it.
“Yes, I suppose so.” Mrs. Haig frowned. “You work too hard, the pair of you. And here’s me eating into your weekend.”
Adam shook his head. “This isn’t work, it’s play.” And the sight of Robin in an old t-shirt, muscles rippling and working up a sweat was a sight to enjoy. Adam gave him an affectionate glance, which was immediately returned.
“These panels won’t install themselves,” Robin said hastily, perhaps with half a mind on some less strenuous but highly enjoyable activity that could go on later, assuming they weren’t too tired.
And finally – a bright winter moon over Cochrane Central. Soon it'll be spring, honest.
Charlie
