I LIFT my head to the weak sun and give thanks for having survived another winter. It’s good to see the lane is passable, even if there are ruts and puddles. However, I can still see the bones of icy,

THE MARK OF A GREAT, TOUGH BOOK MAY NOT be how many literature classes it’s taught in but how many film or TV adaptations you can drape on its branches without breaking them. Dramatizations are tricky

FROM its oak panelling to the worn leather chairs, the room was oddly old fashioned. Rather like Ralph Draper himself, Dolly observed, glancing around the private detective’s office. She hadn’t expect

ROSALIE’S heart was pounding. Tall and formidable in dark coat and breeches, Thomas Charrel stood in the chapel doorway, his eyes on her for what seemed an age. His expression was grim, his gaze as co

WHAT sort of accident?” Declan looked worried. “Is your mother OK?” “Mum’s fine,” Tara said. “It’s Phyllis. “Mel – that’s her daughter – was driving her home and they tried to cross the ford. “With al

I’LL return in two hours, Mr Archer.” Lister, Lord Despard’s steward, touched his forelock in deference to the young architect. The sun had just risen over the woods surrounding the lake – where a fol