“He has found his best friend, his true partner, his forever love in Savannah. Savannah has found her best friend, her true partner, her forever love in Edward. Raise your glasses with me to wish them a long and happy marriage.”
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Savannah Webb Protagonist. Owner of Webb’s Glass Shop.
Edward Morris Savannah’s boyfriend. Owner of Queen’s Head Pub.
Amanda Blake Office manager of Webb’s Glass Shop.
Jacob Underwood Apprentice at Webb’s Studio.
Judge Frances Underwood Jacob’s mother.
Suzy Jacob’s service dog.
Rooney Savannah Webb’s young dog.
Snowy Edward’s kitten.
Nicole Borawski Manager of Queen’s Head.
Elizabeth Hartford Nicole’s wife.
Phillip Borawski Nicole’s brother.
Alan Borawski Nicole’s brother.
Rachel Rosenberg Glass student. Faith’s twin.
Faith Rosenberg Glass student. Rachel’s twin.
Myla Katherine Nedra Student #1.
Lonnie McCarthy Student #2.
Patricia Karn Student #3.
Herbert Klug Student #4.
Viola Blake Amanda’s mother.
Charlotte Gray Coroner.
Samuel Joven Part-time prep cook.
Deloris Borawski Nicole’s mother.
Thomas Borawski Nicole’s father.
Uncle Bert Nicole’s uncle.
Arnold Banyon Uncle Bert’s manservant.
Vince Currier Director of SHINE Festival.
Tim Staff at Mustard Seed Inn.
Gregg Witness to Nicole’s hit-and-run.
Glossary of Terms for Flameworking Glass
Bead Separator (also known as Bead Release) is a thick liquid that is applied to a mandrel to keep the hot glass from sticking to the stainless steel. A simple bead mixture contains alumina and high-fire clay mixed with water.
Borosilicate Glass (also known as Hard Glass) is a glass composed of boron and silica. A well-known example would be Pyrex.
Cane is a thin rod of pulled or twisted glass.
Cold-working is mechanically altering the appearance of glass when it is cold, meaning room temperature. Grinding, etching, cutting, and faceting are examples of cold-working techniques.
Didymium Lenses are used by lampworkers for eye protection from infrared and ultraviolet radiation from hot glass. They also eliminate the yellow sodium flare to make it easier when glass is worked in the flame.
Fire Polish is a process used to create a glossy smooth finish on glass using heat.
Flame Annealing is a method of slowly cooling a bead in the outer edges in the flame of the torch.
Flameworking is the manipulation of glass, usually glass rods, by means of a torch.
Frit is crushed glass of varying sizes (usually sorted through a screen).
Fuming is the process of melting or burning a metal or metallic salt onto a glass surface. The metal, most often gold or silver, is heated within a flame until it vaporizes. The vapor is then deposited onto the surface of the glass. Metallic vapors can be toxic so safety precautions should be taken.
Fusing is the process of heat bonding two or more pieces of glass together. This can be done in a kiln or using a torch.
Gather is a glob of glass on the end of a punty or blowpipe. In flameworking, the gather is formed by melting the end of a rod and feeding more of the rod into the flame to increase the molten area of the glass.
Glass is a non-crystalline material with the mechanical rigidity of a solid and the atomic qualities of a liquid. Most glass is composed of silica, sodium oxide, along with a stabilizer such as calcium oxide.
Glass Enamels are powdered glass applied to and bonded by heat to a heat resistant surface such as glass, fine silver, copper, or pure gold.
Graphite Marver is a flat heat-proof surface. It provides an area for glass to be rolled into shape.
Hothead Torch has as big a flame as you can get with this style torch. The bigger the flame, the more BTUs and faster you can work the glass. Most commonly available brazing torches have a smaller sized flame which means less BTUs and less heat.
Lampworking is a term derived from the original method of working glass with an oil lamp or Bunsen burner. Today this technique is commonly referred to as Flameworking.
Latticinio is a decorative type of twisted glass cane. The Italian word literally translates into “little milk-white strands” and referred to canes made with only clear and opaque white glass. Today the term includes all color combinations of twisted cane.
Mandrel is a stainless-steel rod used in beadmaking. It gives the artist a handle and space to start making a bead.
Striker is used to light torches. You must quickly squeeze the handles together to cause a spark.
Tweezers have many uses for the flame worker. They are used to set in decorative chips, pull contamination out of the molten glass, hold and shape hot glass, etc.
Information about Glassblowing Instruction
Making gifts with glass is my favorite hobby. My husband, George, and I have a large kiln in the small studio behind our house, which we use to fuse glass. In addition, we have been creating a series of etched-glass books depicting the covers of each book in the Webb’s Glass Shop Mystery Series. They are simply gorgeous, and I always have one with me when I have an event at a library or festival. To see the process we use in making these books, go to the website sponsored by Kensington Books, https://www.hobbyreads.com.
On occasion, we take classes to make blown-glass pieces. There are several hot shops in St. Petersburg, and we have enjoyed participating in the “date night” workshops. Our first session was at the Morean Art Center on 719 Central Avenue. The format is simple—each couple has a hands-on experience culminating in one piece of glass art. It is typically a solid sculpted paperweight, or a blown-glass ornament made by the two of you in collaboration with an instructor.
Webb’s Glass Shop is inspired by the real-life Grand Central Stained Glass & Graphics business owned by our good friends Bradley and Eloyne Erickson. Their website ishttp://www.grandcentralstainedglass.com. Visit if you can.
You can find a class in your area by searching the web for fused, etched, or stained-glass classes in your city.
My husband and I have scaled back our glasswork. We’ve restricted our work to making gifts for friends, family, and book promotion. My current interest is in making glass beads in a technique called flameworking. I’m taking classes at one of the local glassblowing shops, Zen Glass Studio. It’s located near the imaginary Webb’s Studio in the Warehouse Arts District of St. Petersburg.
Working hot glass is a little intimidating, but I’m getting more comfortable with the torch and how the molten glass behaves. George says he’ll set me up a workstation in our studio behind the house. Maybe.
Right now, I’m concentrating on writing the next book in the Webb’s Glass Shop Mystery series. Since millefiori is the featured glass art in one of my next books, I predict that I will need to find a way to do both.
ALSO IN THE WEBB’S GLASS
SHOP MYSTERY SERIES
Shattered at Sea
A Mediterranean cruise gives glass shop owner
Savannah Webb a chance to demonstrate her
expertise—and fire up her skills when it comes
to foul play . . .
Enjoy the following excerpt from
Shattered at Sea . . .
Prologue
At sea, cruise ship Obscura,
security office
“There’s no way he’s dead,” Savannah shouted at the security guard. “No one saw it. You haven’t found a body.”
“Miss, that’s often the way it is for these cases,” said the security guard. “We are proceeding with the investigation. You have no authority here. You’re not even related to the passenger.”
“But . . .”
“Leave it to us. We’re the only authority
out here in international waters.”
Savannah turned away with her fists clenched and her eyes narrowed to small slits.
Leave it to you? There’s no way.
Chapter 1
Friday morning,
Webb’s Glass Shop
“It’s a terrible time,” said Savannah Webb. “I can’t take a week off and leave everything to Amanda and Jacob. It feels wrong.”
“It’s the chance of a lifetime.” Edward Morris folded his arms over his chest to reflect Savannah’s stance. “The offer is a seven-day cruise in the Mediterranean that begins and ends in Barcelona, Spain. What’s a little scheduling sacrifice compared to this opportunity?”
They stood eye-to-eye and toe-to-toe for a few moments. Savannah once again appreciated that Edward felt unthreatened by her six-foot height and unusual strength built by years of glassblowing large objects using heavy molten glass.
“What opportunity?” asked Amanda Blake, assistant manager and part-time stained-glass instructor. Savannah and Edward broke apart quickly.
Amanda stood next to them at the checkout counter of Webb’s Glass Shop. “I’m always a little suspect of the word opportunity.” She finger-quoted. “It can mean many things.”
“In this case,” said Savannah, “the opportunity is to work as the substitute glassblower on a cruise ship in the Mediterranean.”
“That’s awesome! When do you leave?” She adjusted the large statement necklace on her generous chest. It was made of saucer-sized glass medallions that clinked when she moved. Amanda was always moving. “How long will you be gone?”
“The problem is that the cruise is for a week, and since it leaves out of Barcelona, Edward wants to go a day early so I can meet his family in England. Then we’ll fly out to board the ship on Sunday.”
Amanda clapped her hands. “So, what’s the problem? I can handle Webb’s Glass Shop and the beginner’s stained-glass class by myself. Jacob is perfectly happy over at Webb’s Studio. It’s only a few blocks away, so I’m not too far if he needs something.”
Jacob Underwood, Savannah’s apprentice, had recently moved to her expanded business site in the Warehouse Arts District of town.
Edward spoke up. “He’s been handling things very well. Your student clients know about his Asperger’s syndrome. He knows everyone who rents a studio. If a new student wants to rent space, he can send them over to Amanda to handle the paperwork and payments.”
Savannah momentarily tried suppressing a giant grin, but it forced its way out into a hearty laugh.
“You’re absolutely right.” She gave Edward a big hug. “This opportunity will not come around again. There’s a bazillion things to get organized, but I really want to go.”
* * *
Savannah Webb checked her watch, then looked out the rental car window for the sixth time in thirty seconds. “Are you sure they open this early?” She looked over to Edward, who sat beside her on their way to the Miami Passport Office. They had taken the 7:30 A.M. flight from Tampa International Airport, which had meant a 4:30 A.M. wake-up call.
“Our appointment is at ten forty-five. It’s only nine thirty. We’re in good time.” Edward looked back at Savannah. “I still can’t believe you don’t have a passport.”
“Not as many Americans travel outside the US as you Brits; you guys are always looking for holiday trips abroad.”
“If you spent one dreary winter in England, you would go mad. You take the sunshine for granted.”
“True. Anyway, Dad did so much traveling when he was working for the government. He always said that there was so much to see in this country, why go to foreign parts while we still have so much to enjoy right here? You have wanderlust—not me.”
Savannah enjoyed the occasional weekend trip, but most of the time she was perfectly content to kick back in her little Craftsman cottage with Edward and their dog and cat fur babies, Rooney and Snowy.
“It’s not only about seeing more sights. It’s about experiencing different cultures in a way you can’t appreciate without walking around on their streets, eating their food, and facing their weather. You grew up in St. Petersburg, then spent a few years in Seattle at the Pilchuck Studio. Quite a narrow view.”
Savannah tilted her head and turned toward Edward. “But I read a lot of books—more than any of the kids I grew up with. All the librarians knew me.”
“Doesn’t count. You can’t smell the spice market in New Delhi without standing there.”
Savannah reached over and held his hand. “Okay. I’ll give you that point. But you must agree I’m certainly changing my outlook today. This is an incredible opportunity for me. Thanks for helping.”
“I only helped with the passport—stuff I know. My travel agent did the rest. Jan is a miracle worker with travel challenges. You’re the one who’s done the impossible to get everything arranged so you can spend ten days away from the shop.” He looked at her slip of paper. “Thirteen? Really?”
“Shush up,” Savannah whispered as they sat. “It’s my lucky number.”
“Number thirteen,” the receptionist announced to the waiting room in a strong voice that hinted she had a musical background.
Savannah jumped up so abruptly that she dropped the folder containing her documents all over the floor. She stooped to gather them up and bumped heads with Edward. “Ouch!” She plopped down on her behind and rubbed her forehead. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to help.” Edward gathered the papers and slid them into Savannah’s bright green folder, then pulled her up by the hand. “You seem flustered.”
“Good guess.” Savannah felt a flush rising in her cheeks. She looked over to the receptionist, who was frowning like a judge sentencing a convicted drug dealer. Savannah resisted the urge to step forward at once. She first straightened her papers. Then she put on her brightest smile and walked up to the receptionist’s desk.
“Hi, I’m appointment number thirteen.”
“If you’re ready, step through the aisle over to cubicle number eight.”
Number eight—hmmm. That’s lucky in China and unlucky in India. I think I’ll lean toward China’s belief.
Savannah stepped into the tiny space that held a desk barely wide enough for a computer monitor and a mouse. There was enough room for a guest chair and the passport administrator—nothing else.
“Hi, my name is Margie Adams. Please have a seat, Miss Webb.” Savannah smiled and sat. Margie must have been the oldest civil servant in the world. She looked to be nearing ninety, if not already there. However, she was meticulously groomed and had curly white hair, a smooth ivory complexion, and maroon eyeshadow that accented her piercing eyes. “Good, it looks like you have your documents. Hand them over and I’ll fire up the application program. We’ll get this passport process steaming along so you can go to”—she looked at Savannah’s passport request form—“London, England.”
“Yes, we have tickets to leave on this evening’s eight-o’clock flight from Miami.”
Miss Adams was flipping through Savannah’s papers and her fingers were flying over the submission form entries. “Everything looks good, Savannah. I always appreciate an orderly mind.” She paused. “Wait. Here’s your driver’s license, but where’s your birth certificate?”
“It should be right there.” Savannah reached out for the folder. “May I check?”
“Sure.” Margie closed the folder and handed it over.
Savannah flipped through the documents and sure enough, the birth certificate wasn’t where she had placed it. Her heart jumped two beats. Without that, there was no way she was getting a passport, flying to London, or boarding that cruise ship. She flipped through the papers one more time. It was gone.
“Excuse me,” said Edward from the narrow hallway. “Are you looking for this?” He held up her birth certificate. “The receptionist said I could bring it down.”
Savannah gave him cow eyes in relief, took the paper, and put it where it belonged.
&
nbsp; Margie stretched out her hand for the folder. “Louise must like the looks of you. She would normally have let this explode into a massive issue, then play the martyr.” She grinned at Edward, then turned back to her computer screen. “You can go back to the waiting room. It won’t be long.”
Edward left and Margie peered at the justification section. “It says that you’re going to work on a cruise ship?” She scanned Savannah from top to bottom. “You don’t seem like a cabin porter type. What are you going to do? Are you an entertainer?”
“More like an educator.” Savannah smiled and leaned forward. “I’m taking the place of an injured glass artist on a cruise ship leaving out of Barcelona. I’ll be doing glassblowing demonstrations on one of the larger ships for the seven-day Mediterranean cruise. The poor girl will be released from the hospital in a few days, so I’m only filling in until she returns.”
“Glassblowing? On a cruise ship?” She lifted a single eyebrow. “You can’t even have candles in your cabin on a cruise ship. How can they have glassblowing demonstrations?”
“It’s a special setup. The hot shop was designed by Crystal Glass Works to run on electricity instead of gas fires. The techniques are a little different, but they heat the glass in electric furnaces—no fire at all. It will be tricky for me to learn how to work the glass without using a blowtorch, but what a wonderful opportunity to see the Mediterranean!”
All the while, Margie was tapping away into the application form template. It was disconcerting that she could hold a conversation and simultaneously type at lightning speed. Margie filled in the last field and pressed the enter key with a flourish. “There, now let me check one last time for accuracy.” She sped through each field, delicately flicking the tab key. “Fantastic. Everything looks perfect. I’ll submit this to the back-room clerks who will create your brand-new passport. All you have to do is come back here at two today and it will be ready.”
Down in Flames Page 21