Well, this was a surprise . . .

Joffe have brought out another box set, comprising nos 1-15 of the Ellie Quicke mysteries.                    

• Top Value Picks
• 13,500+ 5 star reviews
• 4,200+ pages
• 15 witty whodunnits
• 1 utterly loveable sleuth

Fans of Agatha Christie & Simon Brett will be hooked from the first page. £1.99/$2.99

I was surprised because I don’t usually look at reader’s reviews. How many 5-star reviews was that? Really? I checked to make sure there wasn’t a typing error. So here’s to Ellie and her loving friends and family, and ‘Boo’ to her grabby, ungrateful daughter. This is a digital only publication, so the ASIN number is: B0H5C8LS96

To answer your next query, yes, I’m well on the way to writing another Ellie now. It’s about a romance scam, where lonely people are preyed upon by the unscrupulous . . . and it also features a very real threat to Ellie’s family. The writing is going well, but it still needs lots of work before I can send it in.

                                                     The missing e-book . . .

. . . was not really missing but strayed from its brother and sisters and appears to have bobbed up where it shouldn’t. I should have full information on where it is and how it can be accessed soon. That’s FALSE RELATION, by the way.

                                       The next teaser . . .

is for one of the books from the new Ellie box set. I attach herewith the first few pages of MURDER WITH MERCY in which Ellie tries to deal with family problems, pot up some bulbs and be drawn into the rather odd case of the girl who said her aunt her died without leaving her a long-promised handbag!

I love a good gossip. ‘Have you seen the new tea-room? It doesn’t serve coffee!’ But a blessing on those who remember I can’t stand for long and meet me where we can sit and chat in comfort.

I received four delightful postcards from old friends after my last newsletter. All had pride of place on my mantelpiece till replaced by cards for my 93^rd birthday.

Veronica Heley

                                        We have lost . . .

Many good things have come into our lives over the last fifty years or so, but now and then I come across something which I really, really miss. Do you remember the postcards we used to send one another when we went away on holiday? You read them – sometimes with difficulty because they were scribbled in haste or delayed because the sender had forgotten the relevant postcode – and then you put them on the mantelpiece to look at, and to remind you of the sender. And each time you see them, you smile.    

Nowadays we’re bombarded with pictures taken on a smartphone which are very rarely printed off and put on the mantelpiece. One friend said her family had sent her six photos of a summer holiday before they’d even boarded the ferry to France! Another friend emailed me from Wales to detail the enormous amount of trouble she’d taken to find and purchase a card, only to have more trouble locating a stamp and then an actual post box! I can tell you that particular postcard has pride of place on my mantelpiece.

Do you think we should make an effort to reverse the trend and start sending postcards once more? Despite the cost of the stamp, and the extra effort involved? I vote yes with a memo to self, ‘So-and-so would love to receive a card to keep and remind them of you.’ But where, oh where do we buy our postcards nowadays?

                                                      A small problem . . .

 You may have noticed that the last four Abbot Agency books came out in the usual way in hardback and ebook – only for the ebook versions of three of them to disappear from the website. Last week Joffe brought out the last of this series – FALSE RELATION in the usual way, including an ebook. Recently Joffe have bought out Severn House, my publisher for over twenty years, so they are designing new covers for these three and will re-issue them soon. No dates yet, but I promise they’ll be here soon. The titles are: FALSE NAME, FALSE WITNESS and FALSE GOLD.

                                        The next short story . . .  

Is about the naming of the Outside Cat, the almost completely white war survivor, who has a problem finding a loving home. Many names have been thrown at him, in his short life, but none have fitted until . . . Well you can read about him here.

 A blessing on those who can forget their own problems long enough to listen to those of others.

Veronica Heley

                            This was really odd . . .

I was having a good gossip over a coffee with a friend. We talked of many things; the short story I was writing, her problems with a new neighbour and the state of our health. A businessman was sitting next to us. I noticed him because although he was working on the regulation slim-line laptop and his smartphone was at his side, he wore a three-piece suit with the waistcoat buttoned up. Now you might say, ‘So what?’ Well, yes, but in fact how often do you see a man in a coffee bar who is wearing a 3 piece suit? And then, when it was time to pay the bill and leave we discovered the man had paid for our coffees because, he said, our conversation had been so interesting! How about that!

My interpretation of this: I wondered if the man had been on his way for an interview somewhere – hence the business suit – and had dopped in at the coffee shop to kill time – and been amused enough by our chatter to relax . . .?

                         My next book is out on May 5^th!

‘False Relation’ comes out in hardback and e-book on May 5^th. The cover design breaks with the tradition of the series but is – I think – amusing. We’ve had two good reviews already, from Booklist and from Kirkus. The reviewer for Booklist writes; ‘Packed with plenty of twists . . . a pleasant, entertaining read that fans of this series will thoroughly enjoy.’

The story is set in the run-down estate which Bea Abbot’s friend is trying to rescue and begins with the murder of one of his unpleasant relatives. Oh, and there’s a group trying to take over and sell the water from the ‘magical’ spring in the park. Much depends on the attitude of the locals, who have their own views on what’s happening and what should be done about it. And, just maybe, the future for Bea and her husband looks a little different when they’ve managed to sort out these problems.

                                     The next short story . . .              

Over the years I’ve thought up a number of stories about Max, a tiny black cat who is always at odds with his surroundings, but recently I’ve been seduced into writing about a very different hero. Born in a war zone, this cat is almost completely white, far larger than the usual pet, and not at all cuddly. He longs to find a place where he can feel at home, but has difficulty in fitting in. He’s called The Outside Cat, and you can read about him here.

A blessing on those who devise easy-to-do Sudoku, because I give up when the going gets tough.

Veronica Heley

                        One thing I’ve learned . . .

. . .is not to wait to be invited out for a coffee or a tea. It’s no good fretting that I haven’t heard from an old friend. Now in my nineties I am conscious of the fact that every year someone I used have regular contact with is not responding to phone calls or e-mails. It’s counterproductive to worry about what you may have said to upset them. That’s probably not what’s happened. They’re not cutting you out of their life because you failed to ask after their latest grandchild or the long-lived and terrifying cat. But they’re getting on, and the days slip by . . .

It’s age, dear. And general slowing down. And maybe some aches and pains. And a disinclination to tackle the bus service. And the need for a little rest after lunch.

So the thing I’ve learned is not to wait till I’m asked, but to ask my old friend if he or she would like to join me for a cuppa up at the nearby shops. Generally speaking, we can all manage that, if we combine it with a spot of shopping. We have an enjoyable outing, and it doesn’t require tidying up at home and getting supplies of biscuits, etc., in for the delectation of one’s guest. And, we should quietly sorrow and perhaps say a prayer for those who have passed out of our lives.

It’s supposed to prolong your life to go on working long after everyone else has taken to afternoon television. So what am I working on now? Well, the long-distance project is the next book for Severn House. This is the Romance Scam plot with a side order of Diana Behaving Badly (again!) That’s coming along nicely. I have asked for a longer delivery time just in case I need it, but at the moment the two plots are banging around in my head, each one asking for my attention.

                                                       The next short story . . .

. . . was commissioned by the Methodist Recorder and it’s called The DoGooder. (Or maybe it’s The DoGoods. I’m leaving a decision on that to the editor.) It came out in their March 27^th issue and it’s about an over-sweet influencer urging us all to do a good deed for the day. What she says and what she does may be two different things, and let’s face it, most of us do something for other people every day, without chalking up a tally. You can read it here.

Then I’m working on another story, about an Outside Cat, but that will be for next month’s newsletter.

A blessing on those who keep up with old friends despite our age and fragility.

Veronica Heley

         ‘False Relation’ . . . is due to be published. . .

. . . in May this year, and Kirkus have already given it a nice review, ending with the words, ‘A wonderfully hectic antidote for readers who think English village mysteries are too sedate.’ This is the last of four stories in which Bea and her husband get mixed up with the odd goings-on at a run-down estate in the Home Counties. I attach a copy of the cover for you to see what it looks like. The plot? There’s a millionaire who’s lost his bottle, his wife, and managed to disappear, a car crash which was intended to be a murder, a spring with health-giving water that’s drying up, and the threat of big business moving in to take over.

                 Too many plots. . .                

After a couple of months when I didn’t get any worthwhile ideas for another story, I’m feeling – most ungratefully – that I could do with traffic lights to tell my brain what to work on next. Scenes from the next short story are trying to push into my mind as I work on MURDER WITH ROMANCE. This latest book is a full-length Ellie Quicke. She’s upset because her husband has been accused of romancing someone out of all her money. Scandal is spreading faster than he can prove he was not the man responsible. Oh yes, and Ellie’s daughter Diana is in trouble again. I honestly don’t know how you deal with a much-loved daughter who cheats and lies and expects you always to get her out of trouble. Can you still love them, no matter what they do or how badly they behave towards you? Is your love tempered with caution? Perhaps there is no easy answer.

So to the next short story for the Methodist Recorder for their Easter edition. I’m going to have fun with this. I’m imagining a sweeter-than-pie influencer who tells us how happy she is to do good everywhere she goes. She challenges her readers to do likewise, contrasting her lifestyle with that of two women who spend their lives running from one family problem to another . . . and then . . . can there be a reckoning?

Finally, the next cat story is banging away at my ankles. This particular cat – no, it’s not Max – is white, large, and lanky. He has a yowl to rival that of a police car siren, and a hunger for a loving home. Also, he hates being kept waiting. And yes, I know it has to end happily or you’ll all be complaining.

          There are no more short stories for you yet . . .

. . . but perhaps this short piece about ‘Walking with’ . . . might amuse as a Thought for the Day. You can read it here.

A blessing on those who understand complex maths problems and have the patience to explain them to me when I want to run away and hide.

Veronica Heley

The evenings are getting lighter . . .

. . . and the mornings don’t seem quite so dark. I always get up early. I don’t know why. I expect it’s genetic, like being a night owl. Or not being one. I throw back the curtains and check that so-and-so is up and about. I know my neighbour’s habits.

‘A’ gets up early because she’s due to leave for her stint at the hospital as soon as she’s had breakfast. ‘B’ gets up to feed her pooch, who has an inbuilt timer which informs that food is required at regular intervals and never mind what the clock says. And ‘C’ is a night owl and on his computer to lands far away at the crack of dawn . . . or rather, well before dawn.

My routine has not changed much over the years. Fetch the paper from the porch, put the kettle on, pop the bread in the toaster. Sit. Eat. Enjoy. Read the newspaper as far as the letters page (I read that at lunch-time) then have a general tidy up. At nine I make a cup of coffee and sit down to play a couple of games of patience with real cards.

This business of playing patience gives me a transition from household to study. Under the rhythm of laying out the cards, my mind is dealing with the next scene in whatever I’m currently writing. So that by ten o’clock I’m upstairs, firing up the computer to look at what I’ve written yesterday and edit it before I move into the next scene. I suppose it’s an odd way of carrying on, but it works for me.

 I am on chapter three             of the next book

I wasn’t sure if the ideas would keep on coming as I grow older but it appears that they are continuing to do so. This time I’m going to write about Ellie investigating a Romance Scam. I shared this idea with my editor at Severn House and all she wanted to know was if I could deliver by the end of the year. I certainly hope to do so. She seems pleased with that. Also, my editor at the Methodist Recorder wants to know what I’m going to write for them for Easter . . . and yes, I do have another short story idea but I’m not sure if it will work out yet. To be continued, no doubt.

 I don’t have any more short stories to share today . . .

. . . but perhaps this short piece about my Open Gate might amuse as a Thought for the Day. You can read it here.

A blessing on those who have the patience to admire and make appropriate comments when their friends show them photos they’ve taken on their smartphones.

Veronica Heley

Ring out the old, ring in the new . . .

Now the old year is gone, and we put away the old calendars and look – perhaps with mixed feelings – to the new. Will we be planning to make changes to our life styles? To drink decaffeinated tea and coffee, instead of the hard core stuff? Will we look uneasily at the list of Things That Will Do Us Good (like exercise! Or healthy foods!) and plan to include them in our day’s routine in future? Or will we make excuses of this or that not to do them – just for today – or perhaps to defer till the following week?

I remember hearing at school that Twelfth Night was the occasion on which Shakespeare was expected to write a new play to put on before Queen Elizabeth I, and I wondered at the pressures he must have been under to do so year after year. And then he retired to Stratford-upon-Avon and . . . what happened? Did he never get any more ideas? Was he content to sit on his laurels? Perhaps his stream of ideas had dried up? I’ve heard of that happening to other creative minds, for writers far less inspirational than him. Perhaps this will come to me, too. I’m still being asked for work, but I do get tired and am thinking of slowing down.

                                False Relation . . .

. . . is the name of the fourth and latest adventure which takes Bea and Piers out into the country, into danger, and perhaps into a new life. I believe the proofs have all been agreed and the book is at the printers as we speak. Look for it in the spring. I’ll give you fair warning of when it will be published.

Breaking news! Joffe have bought Severn House, who have been my publisher for the last twenty five years! Joffe have been bringing out e-books of the Ellie and Bea books to some considerable effect. They even put seven (yes, SEVEN!) Ellie stories in a slip case and sold them for 0.99p! Amazing! They’ve also picked up some of the early romances and crime stories I wrote in the previous century. I am amazed, and gratified and wonder whatever next! But that’s very good news for . . .

The next short story . . .

. . . was written for the Methodist Recorder for their end of year issue. It’s called ‘Three Gifts’. I adapted it for our choir concert whereupon someone complained that I’d made her cry just as we were all about to sing ‘Ring out, wild bells!’ My apologies, Alice. This story is all about gifts; not those bought in shops, but those given to us to give to others, such as insight, and encouragement and practical help. You can read it here.

A blessing on those who ask people who live alone to join them for a coffee or a cuppa and a chat. Enjoy!

Veronica Heley

               Christmases Past and Christmas Present.

In my long life I observe many changes at Christmastime. As a small child, I remember Father Christmas trudging up the garden path to deliver a sack of presents to me and my sisters . . . with me asking my mother where my father was! I remember staring in wonder at the pre-war glass baubles on a huge tree. I still have some of the baubles wrapped in tissue paper but no longer hang them on a real tree. I still give pride of place to an artificial tree about 15 inches high, which was bought for my very first Christmas, and has passed down to me through the years. My parents and sisters have gone on but friends remain and so does the love and the wonder of the Great Story.

As a teenager and young adult I remember carol singing in neighbouring streets on cold nights, stamping my feet to keep them warm. Do you remember having chilblains? For years after, I remember singing in churches lit by candles and redolent with greenery and poinsettias. I remember the Christmas Eve parties we had for neighbours and the quiet heartbreak of those whose childhood Christmases were not given over to love.

I remember writing Christmas stories, year after year. Now as I write yet another story, I think of the loneliness that older people can experience at this time of year.

Yet love remains. Some gifts are paid for in cash, but many others come from the heart and are given with love. We give a smile here and a cup of coffee or a meal there. We ask how our neighbour is, and listen with care and attention to their reply. Let no one be alone and sad.

                             The next book . . .

Hurray, it’s finished! I waded through the copy editing and then the first proofs and don’t think there’s any more queries. Severn House have decided to change their covers and their new ones are lighter and brighter. I’ll send you a copy when the book is ready for sale. And now the manuscript is to be handed over to the printers and that’s my part done. This is the fourth story about Bea Abbot and the consequences of her taking in a rough sleeper who turns out to have inherited a rundown Stately Home and a multitude of problems. I must say both Bea and Piers have outdone themselves in this story. It’s due out next spring . . . more details in due course.  

                       The next short story . . .

is about someone facing a difficult Christmas and dealing with unexpected problems rather well. It’s called Louise’s Christmas and you can find it here.

A blessing on those who find time amid the Christmas rush, to think about the message of the Nativity . . . and remember people they know who may be alone and sad at this time of year.    

Veronica Heley

              Shopping should be a joy. Discuss.

If I were still a size 10, if I didn’t feel the cold, if my knees were photogenic and I could wear black . . . then perhaps shopping would be a delight. I used to enjoy it. Sigh . . . Anyway, a dear friend offered to take me for a spree in a big shopping complex. We promised ourselves a treat or two. We worked out how much we could spend and what we needed to buy and set off with High Hopes.

The department stores are still there, all bright and cheerful, crammed full of Christmas goodies and denim clothing. We turned our faces away from the tinsel and sparkle which had nothing to do with the Nativity. We spurned the chilly-looking light-weight clothes and looked for an A-line navy blue or grey skirt in a warm material, size er-hum. And did not see such a thing anywhere. Advertisements had informed us that such practical clothing was available, but only on-line. Not to be tried on. Not available. Sigh. I bought a pair of gloves, we had a pleasant enough snack and returned home, exhausted.

How are older people going to shop in future? On-line? Er, no. At the Tea Club for oldies that I attend, only three people have computers and maybe five have smartphones. Are we the new invisible?

           An important event occurs in November . . .

Well, two important events. My daughter has a birthday and the paperback of FALSE GOLD comes out. This is the third in the Bea Abbot series in which she gets involved with a nameless rough sleeper who turns out to have a family of which he knew nothing . . . and finds himself with an inheritance . . . and a whole heap of trouble. He is growing up fast, but meeting a lot of problems. Rumours abound of hidden treasure and matters are not helped by a centuries-old feud with the nearest town – and police force.

I have delivered the fourth story – called FALSE RELATION – which will complete this series and am waiting for the copy edits to arrive. A draft of the cover has already been sent to me and it’s quite something. The new covers from Severn House are much lighter. I’ll send you a copy when it is finally approved.

                       The next short story . . .

I’m running out of short stories to send you. I have two in course of preparation but they’re not ready yet, so I’m sending you the first few pages of FALSE ALARM, which is an early one from the Bea Abbot series, still available now from Joffe. Enjoy!

A blessing on all those who still think of Christmas in terms of the Nativity and what it means to all of us.  

Veronica Heley

A strange thing happened the other day

Every morning between two and three a car drives up and stops outside my house. A man gets out and flings the newspaper into my garden – although recently he has been kind enough to open the gate, step up the path and thrust it through the letter-box. Mission accomplished, he returns to his car, drives off round the corner, repeats the action two doors on and then . . . disappears into the night. In the morning I collect my day’s newspaper, dry the rain-proof cover roughly and switch the kettle on for breakfast. Only, one day it wasn’t my usual newspaper. I checked with a couple of neighbours who also have their paper delivered – no, they had their usual. Another advised me to read the ‘stranger’ as I might prefer it to my usual paper.

Which set me thinking about the reasons we choose a newspaper in the first place. Were you brought up with a tabloid in the house and perhaps switched to a different paper because you needed world-wide factual information for your job? Did politics rule your decision, or did you look for a good sports supplement? Or perhaps nowadays you get your information about what’s happening in the world from social media?

Now that’s opening a can of worms, isn’t it! Suffice it to say I did read the ‘stranger’ but I won’t switch from my usual.

                                        The waiting game

On Monday I sent off False Relation to my publisher. They acknowledged receipt the same day and, without having read it asked when I could deliver another book. A day later they asked what I’d like on the cover of the one just delivered. Another twenty-four hours and they said they were changing the design of their covers. They still haven’t said if they liked what I’d just sent them! However, I felt I needed a holiday and for some obscure reason I awarded myself eight days away from the computer. The eighth day has come and gone, and I still haven’t tackled the To Do Pile, or worked out what the plot might be if I do write another book. And I still don’t know if they liked False Relation. So – watch this space.

                       The next short story . . .

. . . is a trailer for the very first Ellie Quicke, where she moves on from being a stay-at-home little wifey to someone who can stand up to bullying by family and a baddy or two. You can read it here.

A blessing on all those who can exchange news and views without reaching for a gun. And yes, I am still good friends with the neighbour who urged me to read the wrongly-delivered newspaper even though our politics are completely different.

Veronica Heley