I always like to start my Christmas shopping in August so I can buy as I see things that friends and family might like. It also prevents me from having to spend too much in one month!
This year, to whet your appetite, I offer an excerpt from Visit to Venice, one of the short stories in Hunter's Christmas. Your family and friends might enjoy the book and you can purchase it in good time for the holiday season.
The Blurb
DI Hunter Wilson is looking forward to spending a holiday in India with his girlfriend Dr Meera Sharma, away from the cold, wet winter of Edinburgh. He looks to share his happiness with others when he is attacked by Santa Claus, he says.
His team swing into action to catch his attackers but then receive information about an elf found dead in a car park and a car stolen by Mrs Claus.
Are the crimes by these Christmas characters connected?
Can Hunter’s team restore peace and good will to Christmas?
Hunter’s Christmas and Other Stories includes tales about DI Hunter Wilson and DS Jane Renwick along with those about new and different characters in this gripping collection of short stories especially for crime fiction readers.
The Excerpt
When he noticed her looking at him there was a glimmer of recognition, but he clearly couldn’t place her.
She said, “I think we’re staying at the same hotel.”
“Ah yes. Wondered where I remembered you from. Do you have a nice room?”
“It’s fine. It suits my needs. I just sleep there. I want to see as much of the city as I can, while I can.”
“I know what you mean, there’ s so much to see. And so little time.” He added. “Holidays are always too short, aren’t they? I’m Ted, Ted Davies, by the way.” He smiled at her. The smile shone from his eyes, and she couldn’t help reciprocating.
Just then the waiter brought her breakfast and his coffee. She watched as Ted added more sugar than she thought would dissolve in the cup and stirred it slowly. He should be better eating something, rather than taking in those empty calories. She always said that to Cecil and was about to offer Ted her pearls of wisdom, but he turned his head and looked out of the window. He smiled and waved at a little boy who passed, and the child waved back. This brought their conversation to an end, but she did notice him add yet more sugar to his coffee before he drank it.
Margory sipped her coffee and stared at her wish list of places to revisit; it included nowhere she hadn’t been before. That wasn’t the point of this trip at all. There were many places she and Cecil visited in Venice that they wanted to visit again, so she dug into her bag to get a pen and mark up the list. She didn’t notice the young man leave.
The first highlight of today was to be time at the Basilica di Santa Maria Gloriosa dei Frari, so she settled her bill, left a more than generous tip and patted her bag before leaving the café and walking along the street to join the line to wait for the vaporetto. This would take her towards San Marco. She enjoyed being back among the canals, familiar buildings and hearing Italian spoken again. She was sorry her spoken Italian wasn’t better, but she understood most of what she heard and could read the language well.
At San Toma, she alighted and took a few photographs before realising there was no point. She had nobody to share them with, and she would never look at them again. A tear trickled down her cheek.
Margory brushed it away angrily and turned towards the Basilica. It was just as outstandingly beautiful as she had remembered. This building dated back to the thirteenth century, and that fact alone took her breath away. She bought her entry ticket but shunned joining any of the groups being taken around to have the art works explained to them. Cecil’s medical expertise had allowed them to travel the world as he lectured at conferences. He became a fount of knowledge about art too and explained the intricacies of Venetian art to her often over the years. She didn’t need a twenty-something year old art undergraduate telling her about the polyptych in the sacristy. They would have learned the history of the piece commissioned from the painter Giovanni Bellini by the three sons of Pietro Pesaro, by rote. She and Cecil knew this piece and he admired every inch of it with his soul. She felt the delight build as she stood with him to enjoy it.
Did these thoughts make her sound snobbish? Probably. She didn’t care. Cecil had broken her heart and now nobody else could touch her.
Almost two hours later she left the Basilica and made her way to the Rialto Bridge. It was busy. All the little shops were bustling with tourists and the lines to wait for a ride in a gondola were longer than she had anticipated. She sighed and debated with herself whether to wait or have an early lunch.
On balance she decided the queues in the afternoon would be even longer, so she decided to wait. A gondola ride now cost almost a hundred euros: the first time she and Cecil visited the city it was only a tenth of that, and the currency had been counted in lire, not euros. Everything changed and she didn’t think it had all been for the better.
Well, of course it wasn’t, or they would be in that gondola or at home in Devon watching A Move to the Country. Oh Cecil. She began to cry soft tears again and patted her bag. The littlest child from the young family in front of her noticed. He could have been no more than four. The boy took her hand and gave it a slobbery wet kiss and said something too softly for her to hear. Still, she understood the sentiment and it helped. His mother pulled him away to keep up with those in the queue ahead of them, but he caught her eye again and smiled.
The Author
Val Penny has an Llb degree from the University of Edinburgh and her MSc from Napier University. She has had many jobs including hairdresser, waitress, banker, azalea farmer and lecturer but has not yet achieved either of her childhood dreams of being a ballerina or owning a candy store.
Until those dreams come true, she has turned her hand to writing poetry, short stories, nonfiction books, and novels. Her novels are published by SpellBound Books Ltd.
Val is an American author living in SW Scotland. She has two adult daughters of whom she is justly proud and lives with her husband and their cat.
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