Bubble, Bubble, Tea & Trouble - A Spotlight

I love autumn and spooky season, so I thought I'd shine a spotlight on this new release. Bubble, Bubble, Tea & Trouble by Vicki Delany is the seventh book in the Tea by the Sea Mystery series.

Blurb:

When Lily stumbles across five middle-aged women gathered in a dark corner of the tearoom for a “book club,” she firmly reminds them that the inn’s no-smoking policy also applies to their oddly ritualistic candles. As they head outside, Lily overhears them chalking their bad luck up to the absence of their leader, Katya. Whatever they’re doing, it certainly isn’t reading—and their cover is starting to sound like weak tea . . .

While they enjoy Lily’s homemade banana bread the next morning, they make their intentions clear—grilling Lily about any past paranormal activity in the cliffside mansion. Their attempts to contact spirits have been falling flat, it seems, and the mysterious Katya is catching the heat. Levelheaded Lily thinks the real reason is that there’s no such thing as ghosts.

But Lily’s pal Bernie has found another explanation: the half-baked spirit-seekers have the wrong house. The haunted reputation belongs to the place next door—where Lily’s gardener boyfriend is currently staying. But before they can inform the luckless ladies, the missing medium shows up—dead on the rocks at the bottom of the cliff. Now, Lily has two jobs: serving afternoon tea, and solving a murder before someone else gets sent to the great beyond . . .  

Death of a Proper Bostonian - A Guest Post & Giveaway

I'm very pleased to share this missive from Mrs. E. Sutton. You can find her on the pages of  Death of a Proper Bostonian by Anne Louise Bannon. This book is the sixth in the Old Los Angeles Mystery series and will be released this Friday!

14 Tulip St. 
Boston, Massachusetts 
August 27, 1873

Mrs. E. Sutton 
Sutton Funeral Parlor 
12 Calle de la Eternidad 
Los Angeles, California


My Dearest Angelina and Regina;

Pray forgive me for addressing you both in this missive, but I have suddenly become quite occupied, both with a new patient and an old misery. I had thought I would be enjoying a much-needed respite from the violence that so often plagues the pueblo. But, no. I am once again mired in the nefarious misdeeds of some unknown person.

I shall begin at the beginning. I believe in my last letter, I mentioned that I was expecting to dine with the elder brother of my late and unlamented husband. My darling sister Carrie made every excuse. However, my father had implored us to be kind to Mr. Wilcox for the sake of the friendship between our respective fathers.

This is the same fellow of whom I remarked that I would have thought he was courting me, but that his wife still lives. Mrs. Wilcox turned out to be quite pleasant, if sickly. The meal itself was rather bland, the conversation almost the same, but for one of the other guests, Mr. John Wilcox, a poor cousin who is a naturalist and there to give a lecture and Magic Lantern show about his travels. The dinner conversation was the usual tut-tuttery about women’s roles and suffrage, and the younger Mr. Wilcox argued quite sensibly in favor of suffrage and women in the medical profession.

Poor thing. He would soon be in the position of putting the proof to his words. But first, the elder Mr. Wilcox accosted me in an attempt at wooing me. He clearly still had designs upon my property. I removed myself immediately from the room and went to the lecture.

It was very well done, with Mr. John’s uncle changing the slides in the lantern as Mr. John talked. But then a shot rang out, and Mr. John was hit in his lower limb. Elena and I were, of course, at his side immediately. We oversaw his removal to an upstairs bedroom, while my brother-in-law fetched our surgical tools and work clothes, Carrie’s house being but three doors away.

The surgery went well. However, the greater horror was that the elder Mr. Wilcox was found shot to death in his bed the next morning. Thanks to your ongoing and excellent study of rigor mortis, dear Angelina, when I examined the corpus, I was able to determine that the elder Mr. Wilcox had probably been shot at the same time as his younger cousin. And, as such, it seems likely that Mr. John had been shot as a diversion.

So, yes, I am once again on the search for a killer. Whatever knowing smirks you two are sharing with each other, I firmly believe that none of us wishes it were so. I already sorely miss your wise counsel, or at least our conferences in my study with pan dulces and angelica. Oddly enough, Mr. John seems to be quite helpful, but not nearly as helpful as you two, so dear to my heart as you are.

I received both your letters the other day and was quite warmed by them. However, as I have no way of knowing how much longer I will be here in Boston, I must beg you to wait to send more for fear that they will be chasing me back and forth across the country. My sister Carrie offers you her best regards, and I have given her yours.

I miss you, my dear hearts.

With great affection,

Maddie

**************************************************************************

 Death of a Proper Bostonian (Old Los Angeles) by Anne Louise Bannon

About Death of a Proper Bostonian

Death of a Proper Bostonian (Old Los Angeles)
Historical Mystery 6th in Series
Setting - Boston, 1873
Publisher: ‎ Healcroft House, Publishers
Publication Date: ‎ June 12, 2026

A deadly homecoming It's August 1873, and at long last, physician and winemaker Maddie Franklin Wilcox makes the journey home to her beloved native Boston. Her business is to deliver her ward and apprentice, Elena Ortiz, to the local women's medical school, and that also includes visiting her father, her sister and her family. But at a dinner with the family of Maddie's late and very much unlamented (at least, on her part) husband, young John Wilcox, a cousin there to entertain the guests with his nature talk, is shot. Then the next morning, the eldest of the Wilcox brothers is found shot in his bed. Maddie quickly concludes that the shooting of the oh, so charming naturalist was but a distraction for the shooting of her former brother-in-law. Chased by a corrupt Boston police officer, confronted again and again by the relentless prejudice of the city's medical practitioners, and in danger of losing her heart to young John Wilcox (who had plenty of reasons to want his cousin dead), Maddie's happy homecoming becomes a morass of suspicion with someone willing to kill her and the people she loves.

About Anne Louise Bannon

Author Anne Louise Bannon’s husband says that his wife kills people for a living. Bannon does mostly write mysteries, including the Old Los Angeles Series, the Freddie and Kathy series, and the Operation Quickline series. She has worked as a freelance journalist for magazines and newspapers, including the Los Angeles Times. She and her husband, Michael Holland, created a wine education blog, and she co-wrote a book on poisons. She and her husband live in Southern California with an assortment of critters. Visit her website at AnneLouiseBannon.com.

Author Links:  

Website: Https://annelouisebannon.com,  

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/RobinGoodfellowEnt  

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/annelouisebannon4  

Mastodon: https://mastodon.social/@annelouisebannon  

BlueSky: https://bsky.app/profile/annelouisebannon.bsky.social  

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/AnneLouiseBannon/  

LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/annelouisebannon/  

Substack: https://substack.com/@annelouisebannon  

GoodReads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/513383.Anne_Louise_Bannon

Purchase Links Barnes & Noble Kobo Books2Read Apple Amazon Google Bookshop.org

First Daughter - A Review, Excerpt, & Giveaway

Review

FIRST DAUGHTER
By Marlie Parker Wasserman

It was supposed to be a joyous day. Away from the Washington D.C. crowds President Grover Cleveland and his family are spending time at Gray Gables. His wife, Frances, has just given birth to their third daughter, but cries of joy soon turn to horror. Ruth, the Cleveland's eldest child, has gone missing. Is the three-year-old simply hiding, or has she been taken? Fortunately, Ruth is found, but the woman who took her ran off before she could be caught. While the President wants the matter kept quiet, his wife wants to do everything possible to find the woman before she can try again. Despite a new baby, a husband who's ignoring her concerns, and secret service men who think she's hysterical, Frances Cleveland is determined to find the abductor and keep her family safe!

Can a mother's love overcome a quest for vengeance? FIRST DAUGHTER crafts a story of what if. There are historically documented threats to the Clevelands, but no reported kidnapping. This book borrows the question, what if there was. The book is delineated into sections, referencing two women, Frances Cleveland, the first lady, and Mary Brinksi. While the thrust of the story takes place during the summer and early autumn of 1895, it also goes back in time, giving backstory and thus motive.

While it is a work of fiction, it is imbued with plenty of historical fact. I really enjoyed learning more about Grover Cleveland and his wife Frances. Despite their differences I appreciated their devotion to each other and their daughters. I really loved the bits of history of which I was unaware, like the electricity switch and Cleveland's misdeeds. Being from Buffalo, I also liked the many references to that city-there is a lot of presidential history. Relations between the Clevelands, the secret servicemen, and townsfolk meld into an enjoyable and fascinating read.

A compelling read, FIRST DAUGHTER is ultimately a story of love.

******************************************************************* 

FIRST DAUGHTER

by Marlie Parker Wasserman

May 4-29, 2026 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

In the summer of 1895, President Grover Cleveland and his pregnant wife, Frances, retreat to their secluded Cape Cod home, eager to avoid Washington’s heat and hassles. The very day that Frances gives birth, their three-year-old daughter vanishes. A ransom note surfaces, demanding a mysterious and peculiar sum.

Is the kidnapper a political enemy or someone closer to home? Secret service agents chase multiple leads but reach dead ends. Desperate, Frances Cleveland searches for answers on her own. As the hunt continues, the kidnapper carefully plots each move and determines to settle a score.

The historical record documents threats against the Clevelands, but no actual kidnapping. Yet, what if the president and his wife, known for keeping secrets, concealed a terrifying chapter of their lives? In this gripping blend of fact and fiction, the line between public duty and private anguish blurs in a mother’s fight to save her child.

Praise for First Daughter:

"Arresting, brilliant, emotional! Marlie Wasserman's First Daughter had me hooked from the very first page. Like her other works, fact and fiction are delightfully blurred by the fantastic level of historical detail, creating an exhilarating ride through the kidnapping of President Grover Cleveland's first child and his obscure misdeeds."
~ Jane L. Rubin, author of the award-winning Gilded City series

"In this masterfully woven historical thriller, the past comes alive with rich detail and taut suspense. In the summer of 1895, President Grover Cleveland and his wife retreat to their Cape Cod estate, seeking respite from political turmoil-until their three-year-old daughter vanishes. A ransom note surfaces, but is the culprit a political enemy or someone in their household? Seamlessly blending fact and fiction, this novel delivers a riveting tale of betrayal, resilience, and a mother's relentless quest for truth."
~ Maryka Biaggio, award-winning author of Gun Girl and the Tall Guy and The Model Spy

"A parent's worst nightmare unfolds for President and Frances Cleveland - their daughter is kidnapped. And no one knows why she was taken. The real motive behind the kidnapping may lie closer to home than anyone dares to imagine. First Daughter is a thrilling tale that clutches your heart and won't let go. This haunting historical mystery steeped in vivid period detail explores the cost of secrets and the burden of public life, wrapped in a mother's relentless instinct to protect her family-no matter the consequences."
~ JF Tanner, author of The King's Collar

"Grabbed from the very first page, Wasserman's tale of the abduction of President Grover Cleveland's young daughter Ruth (Baby Ruth) delivers Gilded Age details, tense characters and no bigger problem than a child in danger. With the deftly structured combination of Frances Cleveland's determination to bring justice to her family and a parallel hard luck tale, readers will forget this is non-fiction."
~ Chris Keefer, author of Find Your Way to My Grave a Carrie Lisbon Mystery

"First Daughter is an intriguing and intricately-plotted historical mystery novel. I loved the depth of research and the evocative setting of President Grover Cleveland's summerhouse Gray Gables at Buzzards Bay. I look forward to reading more from Marlie Parker Wasserman."
~ Margo Laurie, author of The Anarchist's Wife 

Book Details:

Genre: Historical Crime Fiction
Published by: Level Best Books
Publication Date: April 14, 2026
Number of Pages: 324
Book Links: Amazon | Kindle | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | BookBub

Read an excerpt:

At the western edge of Cape Cod, in the grandest bedroom in the sprawling residence known as Gray Gables, Frances Cleveland couldn’t stifle the rising sound of her own screams. Between pains, she rested. The late morning breeze drifted across the lawn from Buzzards Bay, fluttering the lace curtain and cooling the sweat on her forehead.

Even at this moment, Frances felt grateful that Grover chose to spend summers away from Washington’s heat, away from the prying public. Here, in this secluded haven, she needn’t fear strangers hovering near the windows of the Executive Mansion for a glimpse of their president—or, more likely, of his wife and daughters. She could concentrate her fears on her pains and pray for the safe birth of her third child, in the same way she had for her first and again for her second. Frances expected from experience that her suffering would soon recede, replaced by the joy of motherhood. She did not know that before the day was over, her bodily misery would end, yielding not to joy but to overwhelming terror.

The previous February, after sensing a flutter beneath her gown while greeting a crowd of visitors at a reception, Frances guessed the baby would be her third girl. Practiced at keeping confidences, she never mentioned her prediction to her preoccupied husband. When she gave birth to another girl, the blathering journalists would have their say. They would try out their jokes about the president’s little harem. Most days, Frances ignored the journalists. Most days, she trusted Grover to love each of his babies.

The image of a trio of girls was far from Frances’s mind now, as she suffered in bed. She cried out, too loudly. Dr. Bryant reminded her that she’d survived labor pains before. “Don’t you dare say that again,” she said, in a shrill tone that surprised her.

At last, Frances heard the newborn’s cry, faint but lovely. Dr. Bryant chuckled while he clamped and cut the cord. “Mrs. Cleveland, should I bring the president upstairs to see his new daughter? He’s pacing on the front porch. Once he sees this one—she’s beautiful—he won’t regret it’s not a son.”

“Yes,” Frances said, with the strongest voice she could muster. A girl, as she’d guessed. For an instant, with the last of her contractions, she’d ignored her prediction and hoped for a boy. Now, she didn’t linger on that momentary weakness of character. She let a surge of pride swell over her, above the exhaustion. She’d done it. Again.

Frances turned to the local midwife hired to assist. “Tell the steward, his name is Sinclair, to get Ruth and Esther. I want my daughters to see their new sister.”

Frances raised herself a few inches, enough to see the midwife slip into the hall. The woman returned and gave Frances a nod. The girls would come shortly. Frances sank back and watched the midwife wipe down the infant and swaddle her. She did look beautiful. “Here,” Frances said, crooking her arm to make room for Marion, the name Grover chose that would serve for a girl or a boy. The same name as a town across Buzzards Bay, where many of their friends lived. Frances appreciated Grover’s decision to buy an estate on the outskirts of a different but nearby town, Bourne. The family could escape Washington’s heat and busybodies.

And escape the threats.

Hours earlier, Frances gave thanks for the breeze blowing through the open window, reminding her that Gray Gables was perfectly located on a point overlooking the Bay’s east side. But now she blocked the sound of wind and waves. straining to make sense of other sounds, to hear what Grover would say about a third daughter. The doctor scurried downstairs. The midwife remained stationed over the bed, tending to Frances and crooning softly to the baby. Frances ignored the woman, mindful only of the voices wafting in through the window. First, low tones as the doctor talked to Grover. They were friends. Dr. Bryant saved Grover’s life two summers ago, removing the cancer eating away at his palate. Now, Frances imagined the doctor patting her thickset husband on his shoulder and shaking his hand. She hoped Grover would offer the doctor a contented smile. Seconds later, Grover clomped upstairs. The doctor followed behind, with lighter steps.

“So happy, Frankie.” Her husband used one of her nicknames. After their wedding, she asked Grover to call her by her more dignified name, Frances. He still used Frankie or Frank in private moments. She let him—the nicknames added tenderness to his gruff voice. “The doctor tells me you’re fine. You managed without chloroform this time, too. And the baby’s healthy. Marion, right? Three girls. They will enjoy each other’s company.”

He said the right thing. She didn’t need to feel anxious about another girl. He was a good man, kind to her, whatever others thought. He wouldn’t hold the baby, rarely did. But he wiped his chubby hand on a cloth, then touched Marion’s forehead. He stood there for a few minutes, cherishing their third child. For him, it was a fourth, but no matter. His eyes shifted to gaze at her. He wouldn’t see the tall, slender belle he married nine years ago, the one the reporters called lovely. He’d see a tired, sweat-drenched woman who looked every day of her thirty years.

“Ruth and Esther?” Frances asked again, eyeing the midwife. “Did you send Sinclair for them?”

“Yes, ma’am. The steward went a minute ago.” The midwife spoke quietly, carefully. She’d feel nervous in the presence of the president.

Still almost flat in bed, Frances clutched Marion, admiring the infant. Perfect features. Ten fingers and ten toes. Another blessing from God.

A familiar sound at the door. Sinclair knocked softly. His usual pattern—soft, loud, soft—keeping to the household code. Another sound, when the midwife opened the door. Next, Frances would hear four little feet rushing toward the newest baby.

No feet. Only hushed words.

“Sinclair found Annie,” the midwife said. “She’s your older daughter’s nursemaid, right? He tells me she needs another minute to bring Ruth and to tell your younger daughter’s nursemaid to bring Esther.” The midwife stood far from Frances’s bed, speaking almost in a whisper.

Grover didn’t look concerned. His rough mustache skimmed Frances’s cheek as he kissed her lightly on her damp forehead. She was too tired to return the kiss. She heard him drop into the nearby rocking chair.

“Joseph,” he said, addressing the doctor, “you’re certain Frankie is fine? No complications?”

“Just fine, Grover. Ready for the next one before long.”

Four years earlier, when Ruth was born, Dr. Joseph Bryant told Frances how to manage her family. “Breastfeed for six months.” He looked straight at her, with no awkwardness. “You’ll not get in the family way, and the baby will stay healthy. After six months, well, you and Grover can proceed to another.” And so they had. Esther after Ruth. Marion after Esther. A daughter every two years.

Frances closed her eyes, relying on her ears. Dr. Bryant thanked the midwife for her assistance. The woman tidied up, gathering soiled sheets and opening a chest, hunting for fresh linens. The room went silent, except for the soft, repetitious squeak of the rocking chair. Grover leaned up, then back, up then back. Frances sensed herself drifting off.

Another soft knock, barely a sound, followed by a pause, and two more soft knocks. Not Sinclair. One of the nursemaids. Annie? The midwife opened the door. “Ma’am.” Annie’s voice came out as a croak. “I can’t find Ruth.”

***

Excerpt from FIRST DAUGHTER by Marlie Parker Wasserman. Copyright 2026 by Marlie Parker Wasserman. Reproduced with permission from Marlie Parker Wasserman. All rights reserved.

 

 

Author Bio:

Marlie Parker Wasserman loves writing historical crime fiction. She has published three novels--First Daughter will be her fourth. After a career in publishing in New Jersey, she moved to Chapel Hill, NC with her husband. When she is not writing, she travels, reads, and sketches. One of her goals is to visit every national park in the U.S., and she is close to her goal.

Catch Up With Marlie Parker Wasserman:

www.marliewasserman.com
Amazon Author Profile
Goodreads
BookBub - @marliewasserman
Instagram - @marliepwasserman
Bluesky - @marliewasserman.bsky.social
Facebook

 

Tour Participants:

Click through the other tour stops for can’t-miss reviews, insider interviews, exclusive guest posts, and more chances to win!

Click here to view the Tour Schedule

 

 

A Novel Way to Celebrate FIRST DAUGHTER… Start Here

This giveaway is hosted by Partners in Crime Tours for Marlie Parker Wasserman. See the widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.

FIRST DAUGHTER by Marlie Parker Wasserman | Gift Card

Can't see the giveaway? Click Here!

Get More Great Reads at Partners In Crime Tours

Currently Reading...

I'm currently reading First Daughter by Marlie Parker Wasserman. This standalone work of historical fiction was released last month.

It was supposed to be a joyous day. Away from the Washington D.C. crowds President Grover Cleveland and his family are spending time at Gray Gables. His wife, Frances, has just given birth to their third daughter, but cries of joy soon turn to horror. Ruth, the Cleveland's eldest child, has gone missing. Is the three-year-old simply hiding, or has she been taken? Fortunately, Ruth is found, but the woman who took her ran off before she could be caught. While the President wants the matter kept quiet, his wife wants to do everything possible to find the woman before she can try again. Despite a new baby, a husband who's ignoring her concerns, and secret service men who think she's hysterical, Frances Cleveland is determined to find the abductor and keep her family safe!

Captive Heart at Brantmar Castle - A Guest Post, Review, & Giveaway

I'm pleased to welcome Gabby Heart to Cozy Up With Kathy today. You can find Gabby on the pages of the Mysteries of a Heart series by Celeste Fenton. CAPTIVE HEART AT BRANTMAR CASTLE is the second book in the series.

 

Gabby Heart on Curiosity, Courage, and Accidentally Falling for the Dangerous Option
By Celeste Fenton

If you’d asked me a few years ago what I wanted out of life, I would have said something sensible.

A quiet routine. Family. Familiar faces. Predictable days. Work that I love. The occasional buying trip through New England. Certainly not any adventure that involved criminals, hidden tunnels, or people trying to kill me.

I was very committed to being safe.

In Lost Heart in King Manor, I lived a life that was comfortable and contained. I ran Ocean Current, the family gift shop, with my mother. I illustrated children’s books. I taught art. Basically, I stayed in my lane. And I certainly didn’t go looking for trouble—unless you count poking around family secrets that probably should have stayed buried. (In my defense, they started it.)

Somewhere along the way, something shifted. I discovered my inner Miss Marple!

By the time Captive Heart at Brantmar Castle begins, I’ve stopped pretending I’m not drawn to mystery. I like the puzzle. The chase. The way pieces fall into place when you pay attention. I don’t seek danger for the thrill of it—but I won’t lie and say the adrenaline doesn’t wake something up in me.

There’s a moment, when you’re chasing answers, when fear and excitement blur together. That moment? I live for it now. (I also complain loudly while doing it. Growth doesn’t mean silence.)

That same shift happened in my love life.

In Lost Heart, Rick felt like the obvious choice. Safe. Steady. Protective. The kind of man who makes you believe nothing bad will happen as long as he’s nearby. And after years of dealing with emotional baggage, that kind of safety was appealing. Like ordering a decaf at 3 in the afternoon and passing on dessert.

Rick and I made sense. Everyone agreed. I agreed.

But “makes sense” and “sets your pulse racing” are not always the same thing.

Enter Jay.

Jay challenged me from the beginning. Intellectually, verbally, emotionally. He didn’t try hard to impress me—he assumed I’d keep up. Which was irritating. And compelling. Like ordering an espresso spiked with bourbon and a slice of blueberry pie. With whipped cream.

He also has blue eyes that make it very difficult to think clearly. Or breathe. Or remember what I was saying. Add electricity to the mix—literal electricity, metaphorical electricity—and my hair frizzes like I’ve stuck my finger in an outlet. It’s very undignified.

It’s not just attraction with Jay (though, let’s be honest, there’s plenty of that). He pushes me to step forward when I tend to retreat. We meet in the middle—usually with banter, occasionally with sparks, and sometimes with me pretending I’m calm while my pulse is spiking.

By Captive Heart, I’m learning that trust isn’t something you either have or don’t—it’s something you practice. To choose what feels true instead of what feels safe. I’ve learned—sometimes painfully—that challenge doesn’t mean danger for danger’s sake. Sometimes it means growth. Sometimes it means stepping into the unknown because staying still would be the real risk.

That realization didn’t come easily. I made assumptions. I misread situations. I let fear narrate when I should have asked questions. Trauma has a way of convincing you that pulling back is wisdom.

Sometimes it is.
Sometimes it’s just fear in a better outfit.

Jay never demanded anything from me. He waited. He showed up. He stayed present even when I pulled away. That kind of patience is its own kind of courage.

And when I finally stopped running—from danger, from mystery, from love—I realized something important: I don’t want a life that’s merely comfortable. I want one that challenges me to be brave. Curious. Alive.

So now I investigate. I ask questions. I step forward instead of back. Not just in the next mystery. I do it now when it comes to love, I’m learning that the safest choice isn’t always the one that feels calm—it’s the one that asks you to grow.

If that means mystery, intrigue, and a little danger?
Apparently… I’m in.

And Celeste Fenton—if you’re listening—am I done with Rick? Is it Jay? I think it’s Jay… right? I’m okay with that. More than okay. I’m putting my trust in you.

Just don’t ask me to crawl through anything with snakes. Or spiders. Or climb anything too tall. Or anything slimy. And please don’t promise I won’t shiver when Jay looks at me with those damned blue eyes. Some growth takes time. 

***************************************************************************

Review

CAPTIVE HEART AT BRANTMAR CASTLE by Celeste Fenton
The Second in the Mysteries of a Heart Series 

Gabby Heart and her best friend Abe are excited to be in Scotland and staying in an honest to goodness castle! Sure it's business, Abe is working on a new Children's book series and Gabby is getting inspiration for her illustrations, but it's also an exciting girls trip packed with fun and snacks. Unfortunately it's 2020 and the world has something else planned for them. Rumors of a plague confuse them, but the escape of two prisoners from a nearby prison is more worrisome, especially after they discover a dead body on one of their ramblings. Meanwhile, back home, teenaged boys are going missing and COVID has begun to rear it's ugly head. When news arrives that family members have COVID the women are desperate to return home, and friends have a plan for their return, but criminals, fanatics, and even COVID itself have plans as well.

 

A castle with creepy sounds, more than one desperate rescue attempt, relationship drama, and plenty of sex make for lots of excitement around every corner in CAPTIVE HEART AT BRANTMAR CASTLE. Gabby has become a bit of an adrenaline junkie with a penchant for solving puzzles. She's also unexpectedly become a dog person and I love little Darcy! The bickering, the camaraderie, and the care these people show for each other and their community stand out to make this book special. So much so when something unexpected happens near the end of the book I was absolutely stunned! 

 

There are lots of characters and even though I had read the first book in the series I had difficulty remembering exactly who some of the characters were, as well as their relationship to each other. There are also several subplots and therefore lots of moving pieces. I questioned the necessity of some, but grudgingly came to see their purpose. 

 

Even after finishing the book, my mind is back in the early days of COVID-19. I was an essential worker, so I was still going to work, driving on almost deserted roads, staying away from everyone afterwards. I say this just to prepare readers who may be triggered.

 

Fast paced, jaw dropping, and with enough humor to balance the excitement CAPTIVE HEART AT BRANTMAR CASTLE is a thrilling read.

 

*************************************************************************** 

 Captive Heart at Brantmar Castle: Mysteries of a Heart Series by Celeste Fenton

About Captive Heart at Brantmar Castle

Captive Heart at Brantmar Castle: Mysteries of a Heart Series
Cozy Mystery - Romantic Suspense 2nd in Series
Setting - Dost Island (off the coast of Massachusetts) and the Scottish Highlands
Publisher: ‎ Independently Published
Publication Date: ‎ September 22, 2025
Hardcover Print Length: ‎ 305 pages Paperback Print Length: ‎ 389 pages

Gabby Heart travels to a remote Scottish castle with her best friend, Abe—a bestselling children’s author—expecting misty views, historic charm, and quiet time to plan their next book series. But Brantmar Castle holds more than ghosts of the past. When the women are taken hostage, Gabby must rely on her instincts, her resilience, and the help of men who may not deserve her trust to survive. Meanwhile, on Dost Island, young residents are vanishing without a trace. As those left behind scramble for answers, unsettling clues emerge—leading to a dark motive no one could have predicted. From the storm-swept highlands of Scotland to the rocky shores of New England, Captive Heart at Brantmar Castle blends mystery, emotional grit, simmering romance, and humor, in a story where secrets run deep... and time is running out.

Two mysteries. One fight for survival. And danger closing in from both sides of the sea.

A slow-burn romantic suspense with an edgy cozy mystery twist peppered with humor, Captive Heart at Brantmar Castle is perfect for fans of strong women over 40, amateur sleuths, brooding men with buried secrets, and adventure in small seaside towns and exotic locales hiding deadly truths.

About Celeste Fenton

My writing is fueled by a lifelong love of mystery and a fascination with the complexities of the human heart. As a widow, mother of adult twin sons, proud grandmother, dog lover, and semi-retired educator, I believe I have enough real-world experience to weave imagination with insight to create stories rich with emotion and suspense.

When I'm not writing, reading, or plotting another plot twist, I like to explore small towns across America—setting out solo for month-long adventures much to the awe (and occasional alarm) of family and friends. My latest obsessions include escape rooms, mastering the perfect miter cut for a DIY bathroom remodel, training my cavalier spaniel to do a high five, and making the impossible decision of where to travel next.

Author Links: 

Website https://celestefenton.com  

Amazon Author Page https://www.amazon.com/stores/CELESTE-FENTON/author/B0F5HTW7RK  

YouTube https://www.youtube.com/@CelesteFentonWrites  

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61575815274859  

Instagram https://www.instagram.com/celestefentonwrites  

TikTok https://www.tiktok.com/@celestefenton?lang=en  

LinkedIn https://www.linkedin.com/in/celeste-fenton-33811a357/  

X https://x.com/CFentonWrites  

Pinterest https://www.pinterest.com/celeste_fenton/  

BookBub https://www.bookbub.com/profile/1923908781  

Purchase Links - Amazon - B&N

The Jig is Up - A Review

Review

THE JIG IS UP by Lisa Q Mathews
The First Irish Bed & Breakfast Mystery

After an urgent, but distinctly vague text from her sister, Kate Buckley packs up her two daughters and cat and leaves New York City for her parents' bed and breakfast in Shamrock, Massachusetts. Upon her arrival something seems off, but Colleen refuses to tell her why she needed her, shrugging the whole thing off. But when the two find Colleen's best friend Deirdre dead backstage in Our Lady of Angels parish hall, the trouble really begins. While her father is the former chief of police, and acts as if he still holds that title, and her brother is currently on the force when Colleen becomes a person of interest Kate starts investigating herself.

Family is at the heart of the first Irish Bed & Breakfast mystery, with all the foibles, drama, and love. I like Kate, but some of her behavior is off putting. She may be somewhat of a germaphobe, but her attitude comes off as snobbish. Colleen really tested my patience. I just wanted to smack her most of the time. She may be quite talented, but immature and irresponsible are better adjectives. The other characters are well drawn and multifaceted making for an interesting and engaging read. I particularly liked Garrett McGavin and look forward to seeing more of him in the future.

I really enjoyed the whole ambiance of Shamrock. Celtic flair brings an added dimension to the story and including details about Irish dance brought verisimilitude. Plus, I just found it interesting!

A solid mystery with family drama wrapped in an Irish flag make THE JIG IS UP an enjoyable and solid start to a new series.

Murder at the Wedding - A Review & Giveaway

 Review

MURDER AT THE WEDDING by Christine Knapp
The First Modern Midwife Mystery 

Maeve O’Reilly Kensington enjoys her work as a nurse-midwife at Creighton Memorial Hospital. She's also proud of her husband, Will, who defied his wealthy parents' career wishes and followed his own passion becoming a chef and caterer. There's a lot riding on his latest gig-a high profile wedding. The father of the bride is Dr. Whitaker, Creighton's chief of obstetrics. A rave review could bring a host of wealthy clients while a poor one could ruin him. Fortunately, the reception is running smoothly. That is until Dr. Whitaker gives his toast. One sip and he collapses. An allergic reaction? But to what? A heart attack? Or murder? As the doctor is taken away via ambulance the police, led by Maeve's brother Patrick, take over. Despite having every confidence in her brother, Maeve and her sister, Meg, aren't about to leave anything to chance with Will's career on the line. Will their investigation lead them to a killer?

I really like Maeve, her family, and Will. Will's family, not so much, although that is kind of the point. What surprised me was the wealth. Even as Maeve and Will are struggling a bit, they have an amazing house that was gifted them, Will's family is like landed gentry and even Maeve's sister Meg is rich! I appreciate the family dinners, especially those without Will's parents, and witnessing the love is special.

I can also appreciate the intimate look at modern midwifery, from the facts that start each chapter to the hospital dynamics. That being said, I have no interest in the stark clinical details of pregnancy or infertility issues, so I wasn't as thrilled with those bits, but I feel that people who are truly interested would love these aspects. What I did love was the mystery itself and how Maeve and Meg quietly got involved. Their mom is my favorite character and I was grinning when they got her involved in the investigation. The scene wherein Maeve faces the killer is absolutely chilling. It certainly had my heart racing!

In a delightful debut MURDER AT THE WEDDING showcases modern midwifery while presenting a loving family and an engaging mystery. 

************************************************************************** 

 

MURDER AT THE WEDDING

by Christine Knapp

September 8 - October 3, 2025 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

A Modern Midwife Mystery

 

Birth, death, mayhem, and murder…

Maeve O’Reilly Kensington loves her job as a nurse-midwife at Creighton Memorial Hospital in the quintessential New England seaside town of Langford. Nothing could bring her more pleasure than helping women usher new life into the world... except possibly having a child of her own with her husband, Will. In the meantime, she's happy to celebrate the families of those she treats, and content to support her husband in his newly formed catering business.

However when Creighton Memorial's Chief Obstetrician suddenly drops dead at his daughter’s extravagant wedding reception, catered by Will, Maeve's two worlds collide in the worst possible way. Suddenly murder is on the menu, and Maeve is desperate to help her husband and find out who killed the doctor.

With the help of her wealthy, acerbic sister Meg and quick-witted Boston Irish mother, Maeve sets out to solve a murder and clear her husband's name. Can she stay one step ahead of the killer? Or will they strike again... this time closer to home?

Praise for Murder at the Wedding:

"Christine’s writing style is very entertaining with sensory laden description of the various environment, characters, and even the state of Maeve’s cookies and knitting. Clever & Entertaining Gem!"
~ Kings River Life Magazine

"Readers will fall in love with this series immediately!! I highly encourage and suggest you grab your copy."
~ Cozy Mystery Book Reviews

Book Details:

Genre: Cozy Mystery
Published by: Gemma Halliday Publishing
Publication Date: June 10, 2022
Number of Pages: 249
ISBN: 9798835432134 (pbk)
Series: Modern Midwife Mystery Series, Book 1

Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | BookBub | Audiobooks.com | Gemma Halliday Publishing

MODERN MIDWIFE MYSTERY SERIES

Check out the full Modern Midwife Mystery series: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads | Gemma Halliday Publishing

Murder on the Widow's Walk, #2 Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads | Audiobooks.com

Murder on the Books, #3 Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads | Audiobooks.com

Murder at First Light, #4 Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads

Murder on the Green, #5 Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads

 

Read an excerpt:

from CHAPTER TWO of

Murder at the Wedding

The parking lot at St. Andrew's Episcopal was filled almost to capacity. Despite a recent visit to the car wash, my Jeep looked out of place next to all the Mercedes, BMWs, Range Rovers, Jaguars, and Porsches.

I took out and quickly scanned the engraved linen cream invitation. It read:

Matrimonial Ceremony of
Charlotte Alexis Whitaker
and
Brooks James Hawthorne IV
St. Andrew's Episcopal Church
Langford, Massachusetts
Saturday, the eighth of June, at two o'clock in the afternoon

As I approached the massive church, I saw all the pink plantings and railings wrapped in white tulle with pink peonies at precise intervals. It was a floral tour de force that must have taken an army of gardeners and florists a few days to accomplish. Inside there were pink roses, peonies, and hydrangeas everywhere. The scene was right out of InStyle Magazine. I wondered, were there any pink flowers left on the East Coast? On the West Coast?

As I squeezed into the last row, a large choir serenaded the full house in the loft above the congregation.

The choir began to sing "My Spirit Sang All Day" as Mrs. Whitaker, resplendent in a strapless, rose silk Carolina Herrera with a vibrant pink cabbage rose behind one ear and a necklace of marble-sized, green South Sea pearls, was ushered to the left front pew. Really? Strapless for the mother of the bride? Well, she does look amazing.

A hush fell over the crowd. The stained-glass doors closed, and the groom and his men filed to the altar.

Did one have to be six feet two, gorgeous, and ripped to be in this wedding party?

As the first strands of Wagner filled the air, the doors opened, and down the aisle came Anastasia Bleeker. She was one of the bride's four-year-old charges at Miss Bloomfield's School, where wealthy, pregnant women enrolled their offspring-to-be to claim a coveted spot. Anastasia was wearing a white tulle fairy-tale gown with a dark rose-colored sash. A circle of petite, light pink roses and baby's breath crowned her chin length, straight, white-blonde hair. She carried a small, white wicker basket in one hand, and with the other, she started to drop pale pink rose petals down the long aisle.

Channeling Lady Di, I thought.

Next came the ring bearer, Barrington Cabot. He was another nursery school trust-fund-baby-in-the-making in white linen shorts and jacket and a head of black, curly hair. Then six breathtaking models, or rather bridesmaids, dressed in rose-colored tulle skirts and pale pink lace wrap blouses, floated down the aisle carrying white and pink hydrangeas wrapped in rose-colored ribbons. They looked like an upscale version of an ad for the United Colors of Benetton.

After a slight pause, the stained-glass doors parted again, and Dr. Whitaker appeared in his morning suit, standing at Charlotte's right side. She was breathtaking in a Vera Wang white silk ball gown glittering with thousands of tiny seed pearls. A deep rose satin ribbon wrapped around her bouquet of white peonies. Her Belgian lace veil trailed behind her down the aisle.

The ceremony went on amid candlelight, roses, and organ music. It was like being in a dream, albeit a very, very expensive dream.

Finally, vows were exchanged, there were no objections, and Charlotte and Brooks were off to the photo-taking session in a vintage, white Bentley. As they left, the guests milled about outside the church for a bit and then headed to the reception.

Evelyn Greyson, the sixtyish director of Obstetric Nursing, stood at the top of the church stairs as I exited. She was dressed in a powder blue suit with a short jacket with peplum and knee-length, fitted skirt. A pearl necklace, her ever-present pearl brooch, and small pearl stud earrings completed the look. Her graying hair was, as usual, in her trademark chignon.

"Beautiful wedding," I said.

"Magnificent," Evelyn replied. "Dr. Whitaker wouldn't have it any other way. See you at the reception, dear." And then she strode off to her car.

Evelyn always agreed with everything Dr. Whitaker said and did. She worshipped him. Did she also have an unrequited crush on him?

I quickly greeted a few colleagues but didn't linger because I wanted to see how Will was doing.

The Country Club was buzzing with activity when I drove through the porte cochère, pulled up to the main entrance, and handed my keys to a valet. The grand foyer was glittering with hundreds of candles and still more massive floral arrangements in blush pink. A string quartet played Pachelbel's "Canon in D" beside the grand staircase.

Out on the veranda, the wedding party was taking pictures before an expanse of green lawn and brilliant blue sky and sea. It would be a wedding album worthy of its own issue of Town & Country.

Large silver serving trays were circulated among the guests, offering tiny crab cakes topped with dill aioli, mini beef Wellingtons, smoked salmon pinwheels, and tomato and goat cheese on toast points. There were massive silver bowls of fresh shrimp on ice on round marble tables.

"Maeve! Maeve! Over here!" one of the midwives called. Looking around the ballroom, which held table settings for six hundred guests, I saw that the Creighton Memorial staff was on the right side of the room while family and friends were on the left. I waved to the midwives but walked over to the table where Grand, Will's grandmother, was sitting with Will's parents, Will's sister, Eloise, her husband, Taylor, and Will's younger brother, Teddy.

"Hello, Maeve." William stood and extended his hand. Never a hug, never a kiss on the cheek, just a handshake.

"Hello, so nice to see you all," I replied, shaking his hand as I nodded to the table. I saw that Lydia, my mother-in-law, was outfitted in a mint green silk cocktail dress with a large diamond necklace and matching drop earrings. She tilted her head toward me and smiled but said nothing.

"The Country Club is such a perfect wedding venue," I offered.

"Quite lovely," she replied.

"You look beautiful, Maeve," Grand said.

"Thanks, Grand."

"Sweet dress," Lydia said.

Sweet dress? What, am I five years old? Lydia was a master of the backhanded compliment, and she was not my biggest fan. Keep it together, Maeve.

Eloise was in a sleeveless, pale green and cream striped dress with an emerald and diamond pendant and earrings. Like mother, like daughter.

"Well," I said, "enjoy the meal. Will has been creating a masterpiece." I saw William's and Lydia's smiles tighten. They did not respond. They were not pleased with Will's chosen profession.

"I can't wait," Grand said.

I gave a little wave and headed over to find my table.

Scanning the room, I saw my sister, Meg, cross her eyes and raise her wine glass in a mock salute. Meg was the Langford real estate agent of choice for the wealthy and had been invited along with other top business leaders of the town. She knew I had just navigated a minefield with my emotionally distant in-laws. As soon as I reached my table, I quickly sat down and took a long drink of chardonnay.

Herend Chinese Bouquet china in pink, Gorham Newport Scroll sterling, and Baccarat crystal decorated each setting.

My gosh, they'll have to pat everyone down before they leave.

Murray Alfond, the famed orchestra leader, turned on his mic and said, "Please be seated while the bridal party arrives."

There was sustained applause as Charlotte and Brooks triumphantly paraded into the ballroom. "The bride and groom will dance to a classic personally chosen by Brooks," Alfond announced.

"The Very Thought of You" wafted through the room as Charlotte and Brooks took to the floor. They obviously had attended many ballroom dancing classes in preparation for this moment, and they danced impeccably.

Then the entire wedding party sashayed to "Fly Me to the Moon." It was like watching La La Land. They were all perfectly coiffed, dressed, and ready for filming. Plus, they could dance.

When they were done and returned to their seats, Alfond intoned, "Please bow your heads while Reverend Lucas Mathers says grace."

The Episcopal pastor of St. Andrew's, Reverend Mathers, was slightly rotund with flushed pink cheeks. He ran his hand through receding black hair, obviously feeling the weight of this moment. Then he bowed his head.

"Dear Holy Father, thank you for this glorious day! What a wonderful celebration! We ask you to bless Charlotte and Brooks, as well as their families and friends, and we beseech you to grant this special couple a life together that is happy and blessed. We further ask you to bless this fabulous repast and grant your blessings on all present. Amen."

Gee, that was short. He must be hungry.

A phalanx of waiters served the first course of spring green and white asparagus spears with shaved red onion. As we started in on the delicate vegetables, the best man, Ry Farmington, took the microphone and asked all to raise their glasses in a toast to the couple.

"Brooks has been like a brother to me since our first day at Hollis in Harvard Yard. We've seen many adventures together—none of which, out of respect for your patience and his reputation, I will go into here."

He paused for applause and a few knowing hoots.

"In the words of the Bard,
No sooner met but they looked;
No sooner looked but they loved;
No sooner loved but they sighed;
No sooner sighed but they asked one another the reason;
No sooner knew the reason, but they sought the remedy;
And in these degrees have made a pair of stairs to marriage
Please rise and toast to their lives together."

Six hundred guests rose and toasted the couple.

Then came truffle-scented tenderloin with dauphinoise potatoes and tender baby carrots. I snuck a look first at the Whitaker table and then at William and Lydia. They all seemed to be enjoying the meal, and I prayed that all the reviews would be excellent.

For dessert, a chocolate mousse with a crème brûlée center was placed at each setting. I knew the wedding cake would be cut and served later.

Just then, the wait staff re-entered the room. They set a Baccarat champagne flute filled with pink champagne at each place. A hush came over the ballroom. Dr. Whitaker was standing at the head table, staring the crowd into silence. Then he picked up his glass and smiled adoringly at Charlotte.

Everyone listened as he gave a long, loving toast to his daughter. Finally, he took a moment to gather his thoughts before saying, "Charlotte, your mother and I found this magnificent champagne in France a few years ago and had it shipped in for your wedding."

Mrs. Whitaker stared at Dr. Whitaker with a huge Miss America smile.

Dr. Whitaker continued, "Would everyone please rise and toast my lovely daughter Charlotte and her husband, Brooks." He lifted his crystal flute to his lips and took a sip while beaming at Charlotte.

Immediately, his cheeks turned scarlet, and he started to wheeze. The crystal dropped from his hand and shattered on the ground. He clutched at his throat while making extensive gasping attempts to pull in a breath. Then he went limp and collapsed to the floor. The room erupted into pandemonium.

***

Excerpt from Murder at the Wedding by Christine Knapp. Copyright 2022 by Christine Knapp. Reproduced with permission from Christine Knapp. All rights reserved.

 

 

Author Bio:

Christine Knapp practiced as a nurse-midwife for many years. A writer of texts and journal articles, she is now thrilled to combine her love of midwifery and mysteries as the author of the Modern Midwife Mysteries. Christine currently narrates books for the visually and print impaired. A dog lover, she lives near Boston.

Catch Up With Christine Knapp:

ThoughtfulMidwife.com
Amazon Author Profile
Goodreads
BookBub - @cwknapp4478
Instagram - @maevecw
Threads - @maevecw
X - @chriswknapp
Facebook - @Christine Whelan Knapp
TikTok - @maevecw

 

Tour Participants:

Visit these other great hosts on this tour for more great reviews, interviews, guest posts, and opportunities to WIN in the giveaway!

Click here to view the Tour Schedule

 

 

Don't Miss Out! Enter Now for Your Chance to Win!

This is a giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Tours for Christine Knapp. See the widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.

Murder at the Wedding by Christine Knapp [Gift Cards]

Can't see the giveaway? Click Here!

 

 

Get More Great Reads at Partners In Crime Tours

 

Currently Reading...

I'm currently reading Murder at the Wedding by Christine Knapp. This is the first book in the Modern Midwife Mystery series.

Maeve O’Reilly Kensington enjoys her work as a nurse-midwife at Creighton Memorial Hospital. She's also proud of her husband, Will, who defied his wealthy parents' career wishes and followed his own passion becoming a chef and caterer. There's a lot riding on his latest gig-a high profile wedding. The father of the bride is Dr. Whitaker, Creighton's chief of obstetrics. A rave review could bring a host of wealthy clients while a poor one could ruin him. Fortunately, the reception is running smoothly. That is until Dr. Whitaker gives his toast. One sip and he collapses. An allergic reaction? But to what? A heart attack? Or Murder? As the doctor is taken away via ambulance the police, led by Maeve's brother Patrick, take over. Despite having every confidence in her brother, Maeve and her sister, Meg, aren't about to leave anything to chance with Will's career on the line. Will their investigation lead them to a killer?

Murder at the Wedding - An Interview & Giveaway

I'm pleased to welcome Christine Knapp to Cozy Up With Kathy today. Christine writes the Modern Midwife Mystery series. MURDER AT THE WEDDING is the first book in the series.

Kathy: I always love seeing the various professions our cozy protagonists have. Maeve O'Reilly Kensington is a nurse-midwife. What made you choose that job?

CK: I am also a nurse midwife and wanted to describe and promote the profession. Over the years, I had seen several mysteries featuring historical or Amish midwives, but not a modern-day nurse midwife working in a large hospital setting. Combining midwifery and mysteries was a dream come true for me. 


Kathy: Maeve's husband has a newly formed catering business. Do you enjoy cooking, or would you prefer to have things catered? 

CK: I like cooking for holidays and special occasions, and I love baking. I own a ridiculous number of cookbooks, including a few from mystery writers. I find that day-to-day cooking can be boring and often defer to salads. 


Kathy: In MURDER AT THE WEDDING the Chief Obstetrician suddenly drops dead at his daughter's wedding, a wedding catered by Will. Have you ever been in a situation where your personal and professional lives met in an unpleasant way? 

CK: My personal and professional lives have never met unpleasantly. However, years ago, when I was arriving on my first day at a hospital, I was just in time to attend a birth in a car parked at the door. That was a fabulous way to start new employment! 


Kathy: What first drew you to cozy mysteries? 

CK: I was always a fan of mysteries and was introduced to Dame Agatha Christie as I began my midwifery studies. Miss Jane Marple and St. Mary Mead solidified my love of cozy mysteries. I could not get enough of her adventures and even sought out the four films about her starring Margaret Rutherford.
 

Kathy: Do you write in any other genres? 

CK: In the past, I wrote textbooks, but now I'm focused on cozy mysteries. I do have a few ideas for children's books but haven't researched that genre. 

Kathy: Tell us about your series. 

CK: The Modern Midwife Mysteries follow Maeve O'Reilly Kensington, her sister Meg, and her Boston Irish mother as they are called on time and again to become amateur sleuths. The series is set in the quintessential seaside town of Langford, Massachusetts. While they revolve around the mysteries, themselves, they also give several peeks into the busy world of a modern-day midwife.


Kathy: Do you have a favorite character? If so, who and why? 

CK: Maeve is probably my favorite, although I truly love them all. As the series progresses, Maeve goes through many changes both as a midwife and as a fertility patient. All the while, she provides excellent care to her patients, even when her heart is heavy. 


Kathy: Did you have a specific inspiration for your series?

CK: As I practiced midwifery, I learned that many women do not realize that modern nurse midwives care for women through their entire lives, from adolescence through menopause. This led me to include the OB/GYN vignettes that occur throughout the series. It was a way I could promote this aspect of present-day midwifery. 


Kathy: What made you decide to publish your work? 

CK: After attending several writing conferences, I sent my manuscript to an editor. She directed me through a major revision, and when I finally finished, she was the one who told me it was time to find an agent. My editor, also known as my book midwife, has been with me through the entire series. I took the traditional route of seeking out an agent and then a publisher, because I wanted the validation that someone else felt my work was worthy of publication. 


Kathy: If you could have a dinner party and invite 4 authors, living or dead, in any genre, who would you invite? 

CK: Dame Agatha Christie, Claire Keegan, Barbara Katz Rothman, and Walter Mosley. I think that would be a great dinner! 


Kathy: What are you currently reading? 

CK: Like many of us, I read several books at a time. I just finished reading "River is Waiting" by Wally Lamb and listening to "James" by Percival Everett. This week, I started "The Aviator and the Showman," by Laurie Gwen Shapiro. I am listening to "The View from Lake Como: A Novel," by Adriana Trigiani. 


Kathy: Will you share any of your hobbies or interests with us? 

CK: I love all dogs and carry dog biscuits in my car in case I meet a hungry one on the road. I knit badly, but still enjoy it. I love all sports, especially Boston teams and Michigan football. Reading at the beach in the late afternoon is my daily reward. 

Kathy: Name 4 items you always have in your fridge or pantry. 

CK: Maple Apple Cider Herbal tea, Chocolate chips for baking or snacking, an assortment of frozen ravioli/mushroom/cheese/pumpkin/eggplant/spinach, hopefully, ice cream/any flavor.

Kathy: Do you have plans for future books either in your current series or a new series? 

CK: I am currently working on a short story involving my Modern Midwife Mystery characters. It will be featured in a holiday mystery anthology by my publisher, Gemma Halliday Publications. I am also working on a new series. 


Kathy: What's your favorite thing about being an author? 

CK: I love being able to create a world that I would like to live in, and I am thrilled to be promoting midwifery. Also, it has been wonderful to connect with other writers and hear about what they are working on. I am so lucky to be both a nurse midwife and a mystery writer.

*************************************************************************

MURDER AT THE WEDDING

by Christine Knapp

September 8 - October 3, 2025 Virtual Book Tour

Synopsis:

A Modern Midwife Mystery

 

Birth, death, mayhem, and murder…

Maeve O’Reilly Kensington loves her job as a nurse-midwife at Creighton Memorial Hospital in the quintessential New England seaside town of Langford. Nothing could bring her more pleasure than helping women usher new life into the world... except possibly having a child of her own with her husband, Will. In the meantime, she's happy to celebrate the families of those she treats, and content to support her husband in his newly formed catering business.

However when Creighton Memorial's Chief Obstetrician suddenly drops dead at his daughter’s extravagant wedding reception, catered by Will, Maeve's two worlds collide in the worst possible way. Suddenly murder is on the menu, and Maeve is desperate to help her husband and find out who killed the doctor.

With the help of her wealthy, acerbic sister Meg and quick-witted Boston Irish mother, Maeve sets out to solve a murder and clear her husband's name. Can she stay one step ahead of the killer? Or will they strike again... this time closer to home?

Praise for Murder at the Wedding:

"Christine’s writing style is very entertaining with sensory laden description of the various environment, characters, and even the state of Maeve’s cookies and knitting. Clever & Entertaining Gem!"
~ Kings River Life Magazine

"Readers will fall in love with this series immediately!! I highly encourage and suggest you grab your copy."
~ Cozy Mystery Book Reviews

Book Details:

Genre: Cozy Mystery
Published by: Gemma Halliday Publishing
Publication Date: June 10, 2022
Number of Pages: 249
ISBN: 9798835432134 (pbk)
Series: Modern Midwife Mystery Series, Book 1

Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | BookBub | Audiobooks.com | Gemma Halliday Publishing

MODERN MIDWIFE MYSTERY SERIES

Check out the full Modern Midwife Mystery series: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads | Gemma Halliday Publishing

Murder on the Widow's Walk, #2 Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads | Audiobooks.com

Murder on the Books, #3 Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads | Audiobooks.com

Murder at First Light, #4 Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads

Murder on the Green, #5 Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads

 

Read an excerpt:

from CHAPTER TWO of

Murder at the Wedding

The parking lot at St. Andrew's Episcopal was filled almost to capacity. Despite a recent visit to the car wash, my Jeep looked out of place next to all the Mercedes, BMWs, Range Rovers, Jaguars, and Porsches.

I took out and quickly scanned the engraved linen cream invitation. It read:

Matrimonial Ceremony of
Charlotte Alexis Whitaker
and
Brooks James Hawthorne IV
St. Andrew's Episcopal Church
Langford, Massachusetts
Saturday, the eighth of June, at two o'clock in the afternoon

As I approached the massive church, I saw all the pink plantings and railings wrapped in white tulle with pink peonies at precise intervals. It was a floral tour de force that must have taken an army of gardeners and florists a few days to accomplish. Inside there were pink roses, peonies, and hydrangeas everywhere. The scene was right out of InStyle Magazine. I wondered, were there any pink flowers left on the East Coast? On the West Coast?

As I squeezed into the last row, a large choir serenaded the full house in the loft above the congregation.

The choir began to sing "My Spirit Sang All Day" as Mrs. Whitaker, resplendent in a strapless, rose silk Carolina Herrera with a vibrant pink cabbage rose behind one ear and a necklace of marble-sized, green South Sea pearls, was ushered to the left front pew. Really? Strapless for the mother of the bride? Well, she does look amazing.

A hush fell over the crowd. The stained-glass doors closed, and the groom and his men filed to the altar.

Did one have to be six feet two, gorgeous, and ripped to be in this wedding party?

As the first strands of Wagner filled the air, the doors opened, and down the aisle came Anastasia Bleeker. She was one of the bride's four-year-old charges at Miss Bloomfield's School, where wealthy, pregnant women enrolled their offspring-to-be to claim a coveted spot. Anastasia was wearing a white tulle fairy-tale gown with a dark rose-colored sash. A circle of petite, light pink roses and baby's breath crowned her chin length, straight, white-blonde hair. She carried a small, white wicker basket in one hand, and with the other, she started to drop pale pink rose petals down the long aisle.

Channeling Lady Di, I thought.

Next came the ring bearer, Barrington Cabot. He was another nursery school trust-fund-baby-in-the-making in white linen shorts and jacket and a head of black, curly hair. Then six breathtaking models, or rather bridesmaids, dressed in rose-colored tulle skirts and pale pink lace wrap blouses, floated down the aisle carrying white and pink hydrangeas wrapped in rose-colored ribbons. They looked like an upscale version of an ad for the United Colors of Benetton.

After a slight pause, the stained-glass doors parted again, and Dr. Whitaker appeared in his morning suit, standing at Charlotte's right side. She was breathtaking in a Vera Wang white silk ball gown glittering with thousands of tiny seed pearls. A deep rose satin ribbon wrapped around her bouquet of white peonies. Her Belgian lace veil trailed behind her down the aisle.

The ceremony went on amid candlelight, roses, and organ music. It was like being in a dream, albeit a very, very expensive dream.

Finally, vows were exchanged, there were no objections, and Charlotte and Brooks were off to the photo-taking session in a vintage, white Bentley. As they left, the guests milled about outside the church for a bit and then headed to the reception.

Evelyn Greyson, the sixtyish director of Obstetric Nursing, stood at the top of the church stairs as I exited. She was dressed in a powder blue suit with a short jacket with peplum and knee-length, fitted skirt. A pearl necklace, her ever-present pearl brooch, and small pearl stud earrings completed the look. Her graying hair was, as usual, in her trademark chignon.

"Beautiful wedding," I said.

"Magnificent," Evelyn replied. "Dr. Whitaker wouldn't have it any other way. See you at the reception, dear." And then she strode off to her car.

Evelyn always agreed with everything Dr. Whitaker said and did. She worshipped him. Did she also have an unrequited crush on him?

I quickly greeted a few colleagues but didn't linger because I wanted to see how Will was doing.

The Country Club was buzzing with activity when I drove through the porte cochère, pulled up to the main entrance, and handed my keys to a valet. The grand foyer was glittering with hundreds of candles and still more massive floral arrangements in blush pink. A string quartet played Pachelbel's "Canon in D" beside the grand staircase.

Out on the veranda, the wedding party was taking pictures before an expanse of green lawn and brilliant blue sky and sea. It would be a wedding album worthy of its own issue of Town & Country.

Large silver serving trays were circulated among the guests, offering tiny crab cakes topped with dill aioli, mini beef Wellingtons, smoked salmon pinwheels, and tomato and goat cheese on toast points. There were massive silver bowls of fresh shrimp on ice on round marble tables.

"Maeve! Maeve! Over here!" one of the midwives called. Looking around the ballroom, which held table settings for six hundred guests, I saw that the Creighton Memorial staff was on the right side of the room while family and friends were on the left. I waved to the midwives but walked over to the table where Grand, Will's grandmother, was sitting with Will's parents, Will's sister, Eloise, her husband, Taylor, and Will's younger brother, Teddy.

"Hello, Maeve." William stood and extended his hand. Never a hug, never a kiss on the cheek, just a handshake.

"Hello, so nice to see you all," I replied, shaking his hand as I nodded to the table. I saw that Lydia, my mother-in-law, was outfitted in a mint green silk cocktail dress with a large diamond necklace and matching drop earrings. She tilted her head toward me and smiled but said nothing.

"The Country Club is such a perfect wedding venue," I offered.

"Quite lovely," she replied.

"You look beautiful, Maeve," Grand said.

"Thanks, Grand."

"Sweet dress," Lydia said.

Sweet dress? What, am I five years old? Lydia was a master of the backhanded compliment, and she was not my biggest fan. Keep it together, Maeve.

Eloise was in a sleeveless, pale green and cream striped dress with an emerald and diamond pendant and earrings. Like mother, like daughter.

"Well," I said, "enjoy the meal. Will has been creating a masterpiece." I saw William's and Lydia's smiles tighten. They did not respond. They were not pleased with Will's chosen profession.

"I can't wait," Grand said.

I gave a little wave and headed over to find my table.

Scanning the room, I saw my sister, Meg, cross her eyes and raise her wine glass in a mock salute. Meg was the Langford real estate agent of choice for the wealthy and had been invited along with other top business leaders of the town. She knew I had just navigated a minefield with my emotionally distant in-laws. As soon as I reached my table, I quickly sat down and took a long drink of chardonnay.

Herend Chinese Bouquet china in pink, Gorham Newport Scroll sterling, and Baccarat crystal decorated each setting.

My gosh, they'll have to pat everyone down before they leave.

Murray Alfond, the famed orchestra leader, turned on his mic and said, "Please be seated while the bridal party arrives."

There was sustained applause as Charlotte and Brooks triumphantly paraded into the ballroom. "The bride and groom will dance to a classic personally chosen by Brooks," Alfond announced.

"The Very Thought of You" wafted through the room as Charlotte and Brooks took to the floor. They obviously had attended many ballroom dancing classes in preparation for this moment, and they danced impeccably.

Then the entire wedding party sashayed to "Fly Me to the Moon." It was like watching La La Land. They were all perfectly coiffed, dressed, and ready for filming. Plus, they could dance.

When they were done and returned to their seats, Alfond intoned, "Please bow your heads while Reverend Lucas Mathers says grace."

The Episcopal pastor of St. Andrew's, Reverend Mathers, was slightly rotund with flushed pink cheeks. He ran his hand through receding black hair, obviously feeling the weight of this moment. Then he bowed his head.

"Dear Holy Father, thank you for this glorious day! What a wonderful celebration! We ask you to bless Charlotte and Brooks, as well as their families and friends, and we beseech you to grant this special couple a life together that is happy and blessed. We further ask you to bless this fabulous repast and grant your blessings on all present. Amen."

Gee, that was short. He must be hungry.

A phalanx of waiters served the first course of spring green and white asparagus spears with shaved red onion. As we started in on the delicate vegetables, the best man, Ry Farmington, took the microphone and asked all to raise their glasses in a toast to the couple.

"Brooks has been like a brother to me since our first day at Hollis in Harvard Yard. We've seen many adventures together—none of which, out of respect for your patience and his reputation, I will go into here."

He paused for applause and a few knowing hoots.

"In the words of the Bard,
No sooner met but they looked;
No sooner looked but they loved;
No sooner loved but they sighed;
No sooner sighed but they asked one another the reason;
No sooner knew the reason, but they sought the remedy;
And in these degrees have made a pair of stairs to marriage
Please rise and toast to their lives together."

Six hundred guests rose and toasted the couple.

Then came truffle-scented tenderloin with dauphinoise potatoes and tender baby carrots. I snuck a look first at the Whitaker table and then at William and Lydia. They all seemed to be enjoying the meal, and I prayed that all the reviews would be excellent.

For dessert, a chocolate mousse with a crème brûlée center was placed at each setting. I knew the wedding cake would be cut and served later.

Just then, the wait staff re-entered the room. They set a Baccarat champagne flute filled with pink champagne at each place. A hush came over the ballroom. Dr. Whitaker was standing at the head table, staring the crowd into silence. Then he picked up his glass and smiled adoringly at Charlotte.

Everyone listened as he gave a long, loving toast to his daughter. Finally, he took a moment to gather his thoughts before saying, "Charlotte, your mother and I found this magnificent champagne in France a few years ago and had it shipped in for your wedding."

Mrs. Whitaker stared at Dr. Whitaker with a huge Miss America smile.

Dr. Whitaker continued, "Would everyone please rise and toast my lovely daughter Charlotte and her husband, Brooks." He lifted his crystal flute to his lips and took a sip while beaming at Charlotte.

Immediately, his cheeks turned scarlet, and he started to wheeze. The crystal dropped from his hand and shattered on the ground. He clutched at his throat while making extensive gasping attempts to pull in a breath. Then he went limp and collapsed to the floor. The room erupted into pandemonium.

***

Excerpt from Murder at the Wedding by Christine Knapp. Copyright 2022 by Christine Knapp. Reproduced with permission from Christine Knapp. All rights reserved.

 

 

Author Bio:

Christine Knapp practiced as a nurse-midwife for many years. A writer of texts and journal articles, she is now thrilled to combine her love of midwifery and mysteries as the author of the Modern Midwife Mysteries. Christine currently narrates books for the visually and print impaired. A dog lover, she lives near Boston.

Catch Up With Christine Knapp:

ThoughtfulMidwife.com
Amazon Author Profile
Goodreads
BookBub - @cwknapp4478
Instagram - @maevecw
Threads - @maevecw
X - @chriswknapp
Facebook - @Christine Whelan Knapp
TikTok - @maevecw

 

Tour Participants:

Visit these other great hosts on this tour for more great reviews, interviews, guest posts, and opportunities to WIN in the giveaway!

Click here to view the Tour Schedule

 

 

Don't Miss Out! Enter Now for Your Chance to Win!

This is a giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Tours for Christine Knapp. See the widget for entry terms and conditions. Void where prohibited.

Murder at the Wedding by Christine Knapp [Gift Cards]

Can't see the giveaway? Click Here!

 

 

Get More Great Reads at Partners In Crime Tours