Excerpt:
A tall woman strolled from the front door. She wore platform sandals and a flowered tunic of some material that seemed designed to show off curves and long legs. A pale pink jacket was slung over one shoulder. A straw tote bag hung from her other shoulder, and the hand resting on its strap showed off nails painted in a deep pink. Her red hair was pulled up in a topknot.
She glanced around the shop appraisingly, taking in the glass cases, the book-lined shelves, as she neared the counter.
“May I help you?” Adriana asked.
The woman’s mouth, perfectly outlined in the same shade as her nails, pursed. “Do you know a Hugh Wintahs?” she asked in a throaty voice.
A pucker appeared between Adriana’s brows. “Oh. Hugh Winters. Yes,” she said after a pause. “Why?”
“Thank Gawd! I’ve been to fo-ah bookstores. The last one sent me heah.”
“Are you from New York?” Carla couldn’t help asking.
“That’s right.” The woman’s upper lip raised slightly in what must be her version of a smile, revealing sharp eye-teeth. She treated Carla to a frosty stare.
That was a conversation stopper. Carla simply eyeballed her back.
“Yes, I know Mr. Winters,” Adriana repeated.
“So, where can I find him?”
“He is not available,” Adriana said.
“Look, I’m a booksellah, and I need to see that bum ASAP. He has something that by rights is mine.”
Carla thought back to Hugh’s comment about the woman who had sold him the poem in Marseille. A bookseller from New York. After an awkward silence, Carla said, “He’s dead.”
“Dead! You can’t be serious!” The woman looked from Carla to Adriana and to Carla again.
They both nodded.
“I am so sorry if he was a friend of yours,” said Adriana. Her voice was kind, but her glance drifted to the books on the counter, and she picked up a pencil, a notepad, and a book from a towering stack as if to end the conversation.
The newcomer’s face suggested personal affront. “Dead dead?”
“Somebody . . . shot him,” Carla said, wincing at the memory of Hugh’s lifeless form.
“Damn.” Making a little moue with her perfectly lipsticked mouth, the woman folded her arms. “That son of a bitch!”
Blurb:
“In the tradition of Hitchcock, this mystery takes you to the bookstores and cafés of Portugal while investigating a valuable poem that inspires murder. Follow this suspenseful story of bibliophiles who care for literature more than they care for life itself.”
David Hagerty, author of the Duncan Cochrane crime series set in Chicago
Elizabeth Varadan is a former teacher who writes children’s fiction, and adult mysteries. She and her husband divide their time between Sacramento, California, Braga, Portugal, and Galicia, Spain.
Varadan’s previous stories, flash fictions and poems have appeared in literary magazines and anthologies. Imogene and the Case of the Missing Pearls, a middle grade mystery featuring Sherlock Holmes, was published in 2015 by MX Publishing. Her story, “Kidnapped” was included in the 2016 Holmes-related story collection, Beyond Watson, by Belanger Books, and “What the Raven Knew,” was included 2019 in Sherlock Holmes, Adventures in the Realms of Edgar A Poe . In 2017 Belanger Books published her picture book, Dragonella, both in English and in Spanish, followed in 2018 by a children’s story collection, Carnival of the Animals.
Deadly Vintage, a cozy mystery for adults, released in November, 2019, also published by Belanger Books, is set in Braga, Portugal, as is Deadly Verse, its sequel. At present, she is working on a third book in the series and a collection of poems, Dreaming of Galicia.
The things authors will do for their stories:
1. I once climbed out of our living room window and then back in again to see how hard it would be for a character I had in mind to escape a house where she was hostage. We were new in the neighborhood, too! I was so glad this was a weekday and the neighbors were all at work and wouldn’t be tempted to call the police if they saw me.
2. In Book One of this series (Deadly Vintage) I asked my husband to push me up against the wall and hold one hand behind my back and put his other hand at my throat to see what Carla’s options were in a certain scene. You would have to know how gentle my husband is to know what a lot this was asking of him! (He did it, though, and I got my scene.)
3. I
once ate part of a dog biscuit just to see why dogs find them so good. (I, uh,
abandoned that story.)
AND
We've got three Elizabeths. So things can get a bit confusing:)
