Mary Pargeter was starting to feel her age. When did she first attend the annual Christmas tree lighting ceremony at Greenwood House? A quarter of a century, and she was retired even then. Had she loc

Betty Middleton had only moved in two weeks earlier, but already she was starting to annoy me with her frequent knocks at my back door. “Would you like a slice of my lemon drizzle? It’s home-made!” No

Oh, the joy of curling up on a winter’s afternoon to immerse oneself in a compelling crime novel or TV drama featuring victims and sleuths. The story will be set in a picturesque, seemingly safe place

‘ Knives Out meets Thursday Murder Club ’

IT was two days until Christmas and the afternoon sky was blue and crisp as Lydia’s car pulled up in front of the magnificent Bristol Hotel. Why was it called the Bristol? she wondered. It was nowhere

My love of stories came before my love of reading. I rarely slept as a baby, so my poor mum often soothed me at nights by reading to me. As a small child I listened to Storyteller tapes all night – au