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Book Details

Crimella

CRIMELLA not-so-cozy murder mysteries

”Nothing ever happens in the sleepy village of Nettleacre… Yeah, right!”

Bored, complete opposites, neighbours, an ex-glamour girl, an ex- policewoman, and a romantic white witch, enjoy a glass of wine, hot chemistry, and playing detective in their quaint village. Until a playboy serial killer, a witness-protection crime boss, and unseen entities land on their patch.

A perfect escape to the beautiful English countryside for fans of Midsomer Murder and Murder She Wrote with a wicked, sexy, otherworld twist.

(standalone crossovers; Crimella, The David Trilogy and The Fallen Angel Series)

Purchase Links

Author Page
https://www.amazon.co.uk/stores/S-C-Cunningham/author/B002L3ZC2U

Crimella Page

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Crimella-Not-so-cozy-Mystery-Nettleacre-Murders-ebook/dp/B0F99VPYDK/

Web
https://www.sccunningham.com

All Links
https://linktr.ee/AuthorSCCunningham

Trailer

Excerpt‘

Nothing ever happens in sleepy Nettleacre… yeah right!’

CHAPTER 1

01.00hrs, Acre Wood, Nettleacre, UK.

The warning hoot of an owl alerted the forest as a sage green pickup truck pulled into the clearing, turned off its engine and sat in silence.

The driver liked to take a few moments to check his surroundings. This quiet part of the woods was sometimes a haunt for clandestine meetings, but tonight it was all his.

He smiled up at the clear night sky. The full moon and lack of clouds meant he didn’t have to risk using a torch. Speckled light seeped through high-reaching branches showing his route through the forest to an unused corner of Acre Field, a tight bend that farm machinery couldn’t reach.

Putting on gloves and hoody he opened the driver’s door, slid quietly to the damp earth and walked to the back of his truck.

As he yanked open the tailgate the owl swooped overhead, the draft of its wings wafting cool air across his face. He looked up and spotted the bird.

‘You again,’ he tutted, waving a fist through the air. ‘I’ve told you before, mind your own damn business or I’ll bring my gun next time, the one with the silencer.’

As the owl soared away he leaned into the truck bed, heaved out a lifeless body bag, and winced as it fell to the ground with a muffled crack.

‘Oh dear, we’ve gone and snapped something. That’s a bit careless isn’t it, sweetheart? Would’ve hurt if you were still alive, but luckily you’re not,’ he smirked, glancing over his shoulder, double-checking his privacy

The owl returned with another low dive, this time extended talons swiped at the hoody, yanking it back, exposing his bald head with a large tattoo of black wings, fanning from the top of his spine across the back of his head, over his ears.

Angrily, the driver took another swing at the bird and missed.

‘For fucks sake,’ he hissed, rubbing a hand over his scalp checking for blood and replacing the hood. ‘Right, that’s it, you’ve been warned. Next time I’m bringing a gun.’

Undaunted, the owl landed on a nearby branch, rocking from side to side, eyes wide, watching him drag the body bag into the woods.

With a further hoot of warning, he leapt up into the air and followed, disappearing into shadows.

Neither noticed the concealed motion-activated camera, nestled in the branches of a nearby tree.

Author Bio

Ex-crime investigator SCCunningham writes gritty murder mystery with amateur sleuths, redeeming ex-cons, unseen entities, hot chemistry, fun banter, and toxic crooks.

An ex-model, British born of Irish roots, she’s worked in the worlds of; music, film, sport celebrity management, horseracing, golf, football, tennis, child charity, and crime (CID, RIT, Wanted and absconder unit, Major crime team intel analyst, Victim support) and has written 30 books. She was married to rock musician Raf Ravenscroft (‘Baker Street’ sax), is proud mum to artist Scarlett Raven, and lives on the UK’s Sussex coast. Causes: veterans, child, animal, and planet protection.