Death by the Book Tour
Death by the Book
Death by the Book
by Julianna Deering
Christian Mystery
Paperback, 320 pages
March 4th 2014 by Bethany House Publishers
by Julianna Deering
Christian Mystery
Paperback, 320 pages
March 4th 2014 by Bethany House Publishers
Drew Farthering wanted nothing more than to end the summer of 1932 with the announcement of his engagement. Instead, he finds himself caught up in another mysterious case when the family solicitor is found murdered, an antique hatpin with a cryptic message, Advice to Jack, piercing his chest.
Evidence of secret meetings and a young girl's tearful confession point to the victim's double life, but what does the solicitor's murder have to do with the murder of a physician on the local golf course? Nothing, it would seem--except for another puzzling note, affixed with a similar-looking bloodied hatpin.
Soon the police make an arrest in connection with the murders, but Drew isn't at all certain they have the right suspect in custody. And why does his investigation seem to be drawing him closer and closer to home?
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The Tour:
Evidence of secret meetings and a young girl's tearful confession point to the victim's double life, but what does the solicitor's murder have to do with the murder of a physician on the local golf course? Nothing, it would seem--except for another puzzling note, affixed with a similar-looking bloodied hatpin.
Soon the police make an arrest in connection with the murders, but Drew isn't at all certain they have the right suspect in custody. And why does his investigation seem to be drawing him closer and closer to home?
Excerpt from the book ---
“Pardon me, sir, but Mr. Morris is on the telephone for you.”
“Ah, thank you, Denny.” Drew glanced over at Madeline and her American, stopped on the other side of the room, admiring a landscape by William Linton. “See to things here for me, will you, Nick?”
He excused himself and went into the study to take the call.
“Roger, old boy, where in the world are you? We’re all pretty keen to get better acquainted with this Bohemian of yours. If this Clarice is going to make you late to the best parties, she’d dashed better be worth it.” He was answered only by silence. “Roger? You there?”
“Drew.”
Roger’s voice was scarcely a whisper, and so broken that Drew knew he wouldn’t have recognized it if he hadn’t known who it was.
“Drew. Oh . . .”
Drew heard a wrenching sob, then silence once more.
“Roger? I say, Roger!”
“You’ve got to help me. I just . . . I don’t . . . Sweet mercy, she’s dead. She’s dead.”
“What?”
“She’s dead, I tell you. Clarice is dead. You’ve got to come, Drew. To her cottage.”
“Roger—”
“You’ve got to come. She’s dead. You’ve got to come.”
“All right, all right. Get a grip on yourself. Tell me what’s happened.”
Again there was silence.
“Roger?”
“She, uh . . .” Roger sniffled and then caught his breath. “She didn’t come to the front door when I called for her, so I went round to the back. The door wasn’t locked, and I went inside. I found her sitting in that big modern chair she’d just got, the zebra one. I thought she’d fallen asleep, but when I touched her, she was cold. You’ve got to come, Drew. You see, you’ve absolutely got to.”
“All right, old man. I’ll be there directly once I’ve rung the police.”
“No.” Roger made a little whimpering sound. “They’ll think I’ve done it. They’ll think I’ve done them all.”
“All? All what?”
“Drew, she had one of those horrible notes pinned into her. Like the other two. Dear God, help me.”
“Dear God, help me,” Drew breathed heavenward. What was this about? What could Clarice Deschner possibly have to do with the other victims?
"Drew,” Roger pleaded, “you are coming, aren’t you?”
“Yes, straightaway. Hold on, and whatever else, don’t touch anything.”
“I pulled out that ghastly pin. I couldn’t stand it anymore.”
That was the worst thing he could have done. Now the police were certain to suspect him.
“It’s all right,” Drew soothed. “Just sit down somewhere and don’t disturb anything else. Do you understand?”
All that came from the other end of the line was another low whimper.
“Do you understand?”
“Yes, all right, but you’ve got to hurry. Oh, Clarice . . .”
“Pardon me, sir, but Mr. Morris is on the telephone for you.”
“Ah, thank you, Denny.” Drew glanced over at Madeline and her American, stopped on the other side of the room, admiring a landscape by William Linton. “See to things here for me, will you, Nick?”
He excused himself and went into the study to take the call.
“Roger, old boy, where in the world are you? We’re all pretty keen to get better acquainted with this Bohemian of yours. If this Clarice is going to make you late to the best parties, she’d dashed better be worth it.” He was answered only by silence. “Roger? You there?”
“Drew.”
Roger’s voice was scarcely a whisper, and so broken that Drew knew he wouldn’t have recognized it if he hadn’t known who it was.
“Drew. Oh . . .”
Drew heard a wrenching sob, then silence once more.
“Roger? I say, Roger!”
“You’ve got to help me. I just . . . I don’t . . . Sweet mercy, she’s dead. She’s dead.”
“What?”
“She’s dead, I tell you. Clarice is dead. You’ve got to come, Drew. To her cottage.”
“Roger—”
“You’ve got to come. She’s dead. You’ve got to come.”
“All right, all right. Get a grip on yourself. Tell me what’s happened.”
Again there was silence.
“Roger?”
“She, uh . . .” Roger sniffled and then caught his breath. “She didn’t come to the front door when I called for her, so I went round to the back. The door wasn’t locked, and I went inside. I found her sitting in that big modern chair she’d just got, the zebra one. I thought she’d fallen asleep, but when I touched her, she was cold. You’ve got to come, Drew. You see, you’ve absolutely got to.”
“All right, old man. I’ll be there directly once I’ve rung the police.”
“No.” Roger made a little whimpering sound. “They’ll think I’ve done it. They’ll think I’ve done them all.”
“All? All what?”
“Drew, she had one of those horrible notes pinned into her. Like the other two. Dear God, help me.”
“Dear God, help me,” Drew breathed heavenward. What was this about? What could Clarice Deschner possibly have to do with the other victims?
"Drew,” Roger pleaded, “you are coming, aren’t you?”
“Yes, straightaway. Hold on, and whatever else, don’t touch anything.”
“I pulled out that ghastly pin. I couldn’t stand it anymore.”
That was the worst thing he could have done. Now the police were certain to suspect him.
“It’s all right,” Drew soothed. “Just sit down somewhere and don’t disturb anything else. Do you understand?”
All that came from the other end of the line was another low whimper.
“Do you understand?”
“Yes, all right, but you’ve got to hurry. Oh, Clarice . . .”
Julianna Derring
has always been an avid reader and a lover of storytelling, whether on the page, the screen or the stage. This, along with her keen interest in history and her Christian faith, shows in her tales of love, forgiveness and triumph over adversity. A fifth-generation Texan, she makes her home north of Dallas with three spoiled cats and, when not writing, spends her free time quilting, cross stitching and watching NHL hockey. Her new series of Drew Farthering mysteries set in 1930s England debuts with Rules of Murder (Bethany House, Summer 2013) and will be followed by Death by the Book (Bethany House, Spring 2014) and Murder at the Mikado (Bethany House, Summer 2014).
has always been an avid reader and a lover of storytelling, whether on the page, the screen or the stage. This, along with her keen interest in history and her Christian faith, shows in her tales of love, forgiveness and triumph over adversity. A fifth-generation Texan, she makes her home north of Dallas with three spoiled cats and, when not writing, spends her free time quilting, cross stitching and watching NHL hockey. Her new series of Drew Farthering mysteries set in 1930s England debuts with Rules of Murder (Bethany House, Summer 2013) and will be followed by Death by the Book (Bethany House, Spring 2014) and Murder at the Mikado (Bethany House, Summer 2014).
Website * Blog * Goodreads * Twitter * Facebook * Amazon * Novel Crossing * Bethany House
ALL readers, who are interested, can receive an autographed bookmark.
You can see a picture of the bookmark here.
Just send a self-address STAMPED (7" long) envelope to:
Julianna Deering
P. O. Box 375
Aubrey, Texas 76227
You can see a picture of the bookmark here.
Just send a self-address STAMPED (7" long) envelope to:
P. O. Box 375
Aubrey, Texas 76227
From the author regarding the fabulous GIVEAWAY:
How could one possibly have a cozy mystery
set in an old manor house in the English countryside near a quaint little village
and not have tea?
Drew doesn't usually take lemon or milk in his. He prefers honey,
especially if it's fresh from the hive.
Mrs. Devon, his housekeeper, spoils him terribly and makes sure he has it.
Print copies of The Rules of Murder and Death by the Book and a Tea Gift Basket (US ONLY)
March 10th - 28th
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