Charlie’s latest newsletter

Well we’re back home, although I confess we haven’t brought the California weather with us. To any of you who live in the South Bay area, can I say how lucky you are and what a great selection of restaurants you have to hand. Rarely have I eaten so well on a holiday.

News…and two items are biggies

While we were away, the Children In Read auction went live. You can bid for a signed print copy of The Best Corpse for the Job here at Children in Read 2023. I’ll happily post it to anywhere in the known universe, whether it be Bognor or Bogota. Auction closes in a month’s time.

The next Cambridge Fellows, Lessons in Exposing a Deadly Alias, has a release date of Monday, 4th December. Pre-order link as soon as I have it.

When their colleague Dr Panesar is the victim of serious allegations, the Cambridge Fellows have to call on every resource to solve the problem. But in a case where nothing is as it appears and they can’t even identify who’s posing the threat, how can they clear an innocent man’s name?

As for the older books in the series, Lume have been offering some of them on special offer, so keep your eyes peeled. Lessons for Sleeping Dogs is the latest special freebie.

And…here’s a taster of the next Cambridge Fellows adventure:

Autumn 1912

Orlando Coppersmith loved the mellow days at the back end of summer, as the evenings darkened and the garden began to give the first hints of soon relinquishing its present glories for those of autumn. He liked the way the increasingly watery sun lit up the courts of St Bride’s college and how the light played across the desk in his study there. He even appreciated turning his thoughts back to the coming term and the challenge of knocking some maths into brains that weren’t always receptive—to see the “Eureka!” moment in a student’s eyes was still a pleasure.
But most of all he loved Jonty Stewart, who shared his life at both St Bride’s and Forsythia Cottage, their home along the Madingley Road. Although that love was at present being sorely tested.
“What are you up to now, pest?” Orlando called through the shut door of Jonty’s study.
“Nothing.” The guilty edge to Jonty’s voice and the sudden cessation of the din which had been emerging from the room gave the lie to that statement.
“Would you like me to come in and provide independent verification of the fact?”
A sound, reminiscent of somebody hurriedly hiding something, was followed by the door opening a little and Jonty’s handsome—yet guilty looking—face appearing round it. “No, thank you. There is no matter of interest here.”
“For nothing going on and no matter of interest there’s an awful lot of noise being generated.”
“Can a Kildare Fellow of Tudor Literature not have an early morning rearrangement of his filing system without having to endure an inquisition?” As Jonty spoke, he edged out of the door, closing it swiftly behind him.
Orlando rolled his eyes. At least part of his lover’s filing system usually consisted of sweeping everything into a certain drawer higgledy-piggledy. “And does this reorganisation involve a brick hammer or whatever else made that unholy racket?”
“I dropped a couple of heavy tomes on the floor. Jolly near my foot, as it happens. Would you like to inspect the area for damage?” Jonty smirked. “Or any other part of me?”

Love

Charlie