by Nancy Warren
“No. He left that to his agent. They do say literary agents are sharks.”
“I bet Beach killed Sanderson and it wasn’t a suicide at all.” I thought back, reframing what I now understood had happened. “We all kept saying how much Dominic Sanderson had to lose, but we forgot that his agent had just as much at stake.” We walked together toward the Weston where the posters for the retrospective had already been removed. “Charles Beach decided to destroy Martin Hodgins’ home and thereby any evidence that he’d written those books. He killed Darren simply because he was drawing attention to the house he was about to torch.”
“And, then, after you’d been asking all those questions about the old scandal, he decided to kill you, as well. By that point he was in too deep to stop. When it became clear that he couldn’t prevent the world from discovering that Martin Hodgins was the true author of the Chronicles, he murdered Sanderson.”
“No doubt he thought the man deserved to die for misrepresenting himself to his agent.”
“With his former client out of the way, he could take on the real author and go on making money from the Chronicles.”
“I feel sorry for Martin Hodgins and Gemma. They were so pleased not to have to fight to prove his authorship.”
“It won’t be a fight. I’ll easily be able to prove the provenance of the manuscript.” We sidestepped a child standing transfixed watching the lights. “I met with Martin Hodgins yesterday. He’s got more than enough proof. It’s just a pity it took forty years for him to get justice.”
I glanced back at Gemma and her father, working happily side by side, selling soap. And I quoted Rafe’s favorite author. “All’s well that ends well.”
I hope you enjoyed Stockings and Spells. Here’s a sneak peek from Purls and Potions:
Frogg’s Books on Harrington Street was exactly what a bookshop ought to be. The walls were lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves displaying novels, both popular and literary, non-fiction suitable for both Oxford students and the casual reader, and a colorful selection of children’s titles. Cozy armchairs were tucked in quiet corners, inviting the customer to sit and browse.
It was across the street and up the block from Cardinal Woolsey’s, the knitting and yarn shop I owned in Oxford. My cousin, and part time shop assistant, Violet and I walked up with a definite purpose in mind.
We wanted to recruit Alice Robinson, the bookstore assistant, to come and teach knitting classes in my shop. I’d have taught them myself except that I was probably the worst knitter who ever owned a knitting shop. Vi could knit, but she claimed she couldn’t teach.
Alice seemed like an excellent choice in a knitting teacher. She was soft-voiced, kind and turned out beautiful work. I’d been exposed to the best, since I was so often the recipient of the gorgeous sweaters, shawls, coats and scarves knitted by my friends in the vampire knitting club that met in the back room of my shop. Still, for a living woman who hadn’t had hundreds of years to perfect her craft, Alice was pretty darned good with the needles.
Also, she was nice. I’d had some shady characters end up in my shop and what I liked about Alice was that she didn’t seem to be a soul-sucking demon, a murderer, or a thief. Excellent qualifications in someone working with the public.
I’d been wanting to offer knitting classes to patrons with a pulse for sometime, now, but I’d wanted to find the right teacher. Since discovering that Alice had formerly taught at her last job, in a knitting shop in Somerset, I’d been keeping an eye on her. Sure, I didn’t want to steal the assistant out from under the nose of Frogg’s shop owner, Charlie Wright, but frankly, Charlie so rarely saw what was under his nose that I doubted he’d notice if she stopped coming in.
Violet and I were doing some undercover sleuthing, feeling out whether she might be amenable to teaching classes one evening a week and on Saturday mornings. If she worked out, she’d earn some extra money and get an excellent discount on anything she purchased from Cardinal Woolsey’s.
We walked into the bookstore and I took a moment to look around. I love the colorful displays of wool in Cardinal Woolseys, a patchwork of rainbow shades that make actual knitters long to buy a pattern and wool and get started. Or so they tell me. I felt the same longing when I came in here. The books all called to me, begging to be read. If I had time, I’d curl up in the empty armchair in the corner with a brand new novel and read a few pages before taking it home with me.
There were a couple of people browsing. Charlie Wright was at the counter near the back of the shop. It was the cash desk and his work area. He was seated, reading a book. I suspected he read every single volume that came through his door, sublimely unconscious of customers, noise, or boxes to be unpacked.
I knew he was thirty-four, because he’d told me when we’d chatted at the most recent meeting of our local shop owners’ association. As far as I knew, he’d never been married. Like me, he lived in the flat above his shop, though I suspected his was quieter than mine, since I lived above a nest of vampires, including my grandmother, who often came to visit in the evenings.
He appeared to be a man whose friends were his books. He had thick, dark hair, that flopped down on his forehead as he bent over reading. He turned a page and pushed his reading glasses up onto the bridge of his nose with his index finger.
He wore a pink shirt, though I suspected it had originally been white and got put into the wash with something red.
Alice was unpacking a box of novels onto the display table at the front of the shop. She wore her dark hair French braided and then coiled at the back, though a few wispy ringlets managed to escape and curl around her heart-shaped face. She had clear gray eyes behind large glasses, a straight nose and full lips. I’d never seen her wear cosmetics.
She hand knitted her own cardigans and sweaters and while the work was exquisite, I always felt that she knitted the pattern one size larger than necessary. All her sweaters were baggy, so she must have liked them that way. Under her sweaters she wore crisp blouses done up to the neck and longish woolen skirts with sensible low-heeled shoes. She looked like a combination between a schoolgirl and a middle-aged matron.
I guessed her to be about five years older than my own twenty-seven. Unlike the shop’s owner, she’d glanced up when the bell rang announcing new customers. She put down the books she was unpacking, in a neat stack on the table, and came forward with a smile. “Lucy. Violet. How nice to see you. Are you looking for anything special or just browsing?”
She had a clear, pleasant voice and there was something comfortable about her. I knew she was the perfect choice to teach my beginner’s class. I was very keen to get a good teacher as I planned to take the class myself.
“I want to talk to you,” I said, “Whenever you have a minute.”
She glanced around. “We’re not that busy. How can I help you?”
Her eyes paused when she looked at Charlie Wright and her face grew soft with longing. No doubt she believed her feelings were known only to herself, but everyone in the neighborhood knew she was in love with Charlie. Everyone, that was, except Charlie himself.
I was extra sensitive to people’s feelings, being a witch, but her yearning was so strong I could hear it, like a soulful sigh.
I explained to her that I was starting classes and I wanted her to teach them. She seemed started by the idea and turned her gaze from Charlie to me. “Oh, I don’t know. I’m very busy here.”
I emphasized the hefty store discount and that we could work around Frogg’s schedule.
“I don’t know. I like to be available, in case Charlie needs me.”
I wanted to tell her to stop being a doormat, to accept that Charlie treated her like an old and comfortable pair of slippers. But I understood a little bit about unrequited love, and so I kept my peace. “Talk it over with Charlie, and let me know,” I said.
“Yes. Yes, I will. And thank you for asking me.” Since we were there anyway, I decided to buy one of the novels Alice was unpacking. It looked like a very satisfyi
ng love story. Vi, meanwhile, wandered around the non-fiction shelves, emerging with a book about local herbs.
By that time, Alice was helping a grandmother choose books for her grandson’s birthday. We took our purchases to the back. As I placed my book on the counter, Charlie glanced up. He blinked a few times. Charlie had gorgeous blue eyes, and a charming smile when he bothered to use it. If he’d been room décor, he’d have been shabby chic.
“Ah, Lucy, very nice to see you.”
“Thank you, Charlie. Nice to see you, too.”
That was the extent of our scintillating conversation. He grew more animated when he rang up Vi’s purchase, telling her how much she was going to enjoy her herb book and that if she took the guide with her to the botanical gardens, she’d be able to see a number of the plants mentioned in the book. He obviously knew a lot more about local weeds and herbs than about love stories.
Alice came up, on her way to the kitchen in back. “I’ll get the coffee on.”
He sat back down and found his place in his book. “Lovely.”
“And I made carrot cake. Your favorite.”
“Yes. Excellent,” he said, without looking up.
Once we were outside, Violet said, “It’s an epic tragedy the way that girl pines for Charlie.”
“I know. And he’s so clueless. Does he even realize that she bakes him fresh cakes every day?”
“Honestly, I think you could substitute a robot with brown hair and he wouldn’t notice.”
“Poor Alice.”
Vi stopped and put a hand on my arm. “Lucy, I’ve got the most marvelous idea.” She sounded so enthusiastic that I grew nervous. Violet was a much more experienced witch than I and she was always pushing me to go deeper into our craft. My problem was that my magic was powerful, but not always under my control. I preferred to stick to small spells within my comfort zone.
There was a tidying up spell that I really loved.
“You remember that we talked about you working on your potions?”
Actually, she’d talked about it and I’d nodded and pretended I was interested. True, she’d brewed me up a potion that healed my aches and pains, but I preferred the safety of something I could purchase at a drug store.
The idea of me cooking up something that another person might drink gave me cold shivers just thinking of everything that could go wrong. I’d looked at some recipes in my grimoire. It wasn’t like following a recipe in a cookbook and ending up with a Cordon Bleu worthy meal.
The ingredients in the potion I’d read included bloodroot, mugwort and nettles. I knew the resulting brew would look like sewer effluent and probably taste worse.
Vi looked altogether too excited for my liking. She said, “We’re going to cook up a love potion that will make Charlie fall in love with Alice.” She heaved a sigh of happiness. “You’ll love it. It’s like matchmaking with herbs. Brewing up a happily ever after.”
With my luck, instead of boiling up eternal happiness, I’d give them both a case of dysentery.
Also by Nancy Warren
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The Vampire Knitting Club
Stitches and Witches, Vampire Knitting Club Book 2
Crochet and Cauldrons, Vampire Knitting Club Book 3
Purls and Potions Vampire Knitting Club Book 5
Toni Diamond Mysteries
Toni is a successful saleswoman for Lady Bianca Cosmetics in this series of humorous cozy mysteries. Along with having an eye for beauty and a head for business, Toni's got a nose for trouble and she's never shy about following her instincts, even when they lead to murder.
Frosted Shadow Toni Diamond Mysteries, Book One
Ultimate Concealer Toni Diamond Mysteries, Book Two
Midnight Shimmer Toni Diamond Mysteries, Book Three
A Diamond Choker For Christmas A Toni Diamond Mysteries Novella
The Almost Wives Club
An enchanted wedding dress is a matchmaker in this series of romantic comedies where five runaway brides find out who the best men really are!
The Almost Wives Club: Kate
Second Hand Bride
Bridesmaid for Hire
The Wedding Flight
If the Dress Fits
Take a Chance series
Meet the Chance family, a cobbled together family of eleven kids who are all grown up and finding their ways in life and love.
Kiss a Girl in the Rain Take a Chance, Book 1
Iris in Bloom Take a Chance, Book 2
Blueprint for a Kiss Take a Chance, Book 3
Every Rose Take a Chance, Book 4
Love to Go Take a Chance, Book 5
Chance Encounter Prequel
For a complete list of books, check out Nancy’s website at nancywarren.net
About the Author
Nancy Warren is the USA Today Bestselling author of more than 70 novels. She’s originally from Vancouver, Canada, though she tends to wander and has lived in England, Italy and California at various times. While living in Oxford she dreamed up The Vampire Knitting Club. She’s currently in Bath, UK, where she often pretends she’s Jane Austen. Or at least a character in a Jane Austen novel. Favorite moments include being the answer to a crossword puzzle clue in Canada’s National Post newspaper, being featured on the front page of the New York Times when her book Speed Dating launched Harlequin’s NASCAR series, and being nominated three times for Romance Writers of America’s RITA award. She has an MA in Creative Writing from Bath Spa University. She’s an avid hiker, loves chocolate and most of all, loves to hear from readers! The best way to stay in touch is to sign up for Nancy’s newsletter at www.nancywarren.net.
To learn more about Nancy and her books
www.nancywarren.net