Thank you very much for reading Murder Between the Tides
I hope you enjoyed the story. This book felt like my homage to the classic golden-age mysteries that I grew up reading. What better setting for a mystery than a seaside hotel? We had the eclectic mixture of guests, a buried secret or two, a sense of rivalry and a quirky method of murder.
But I was keen to keep this in line with the rest of the Devonshire Mysteries (even though it is set in Cornwall), so the friendship between Dan and Alan is at the heart of this story. The pair are shaping up into quite a team.
It’s always great to hear from readers, so if you have questions that aren’t answered here, or if you’d like to say hello, please drop me a line via the contact page.
Seeing the sources before you read the book will spoil the story, so please only look if you’ve finished the book.
Here are links to some of the sources I used when writing the story. While not exhaustive, I think that these links will help you to make a good start on satisfying your curiosity (although, of course, the truly curious mind is never satisfied.)
The Hotel Victoria
The SW Coast Path
A Georgian country house:
The Mid-Hants Railway (aka The Watercress Line)
An Adler typewriter
Olivetti Lettera 32
The police caution
Cornwall County HQ
Mena Dhu – Cornish stout
What a piece of work is a man – Shakespeare
From Shakespeare’s Hamlet:
When sorrows come, they come not single spies, but in battalions.
Song : Sweetest Love, I Do Not Go by John Donne
SWEETEST love, I do not go,
For weariness of thee,
Nor in hope the world can show
A fitter love for me ;
But since that I
At the last must part, ’tis best,
Thus to use myself in jest
By feigned deaths to die.
Yesternight the sun went hence,
And yet is here to-day ;
He hath no desire nor sense,
Nor half so short a way ;
Then fear not me,
But believe that I shall make
Speedier journeys, since I take
More wings and spurs than he.
O how feeble is man’s power,
That if good fortune fall,
Cannot add another hour,
Nor a lost hour recall ;
But come bad chance,
And we join to it our strength,
And we teach it art and length,
Itself o’er us to advance.
When thou sigh’st, thou sigh’st not wind,
But sigh’st my soul away ;
When thou weep’st, unkindly kind,
My life’s blood doth decay.
It cannot be
That thou lovest me as thou say’st,
If in thine my life thou waste,
That art the best of me.
Let not thy divining heart
Forethink me any ill ;
Destiny may take thy part,
And may thy fears fulfil.
But think that we
Are but turn’d aside to sleep.
They who one another keep
Alive, ne’er parted be.
The Common Cormorant or Shag by Christopher Isherwood
Lays eggs inside a paper bag.
The reason you will see no doubt
It is to keep the lightning out.
But what these unobservant birds
Have never noticed is that herds
Of wandering bears may come with buns
And steal the bags to hold the crumbs.
Keep the Words Flowing
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