Right now my lovely landlady is showing our house to an estate agent and I am trying to blend in to the laminate floor while simultaneously channeling my terribly well-concealed distress into talking to you precious people . Because you my Darlings are my opium. The hug I need when I feel like stamping my feet…
In other efforts to pretend the world hasn’t turned upside down and we haven’t got to move house all over again, I have been burying myself up my eyeballs in cozy mysteries and after dalliances with some truly awful efforts I have settled into life in a sleepy Cotswold village with one Sophie Sayer.
Finding herself left with with a gorgeous little cottage by her rather wonderful travel writing maiden Aunt, Sophie moves into the village and sets about securing herself a job in the local bookshop. A bookshop owned by a handsome man with curly hair and a beguiling secret. Very soon she is discovering the little secrets her aunt May has left for her in a house filled with little treasures and securing herself a place deep in the heart of the local literary group, the pub full of villagers and the curious little souls who people the bookshop daily. And there the fun begins. Soon she is in the midst of a murder most horrid, falling head over heels in love and spending many an hour contemplating the peculiarities of village life.
With three books in the series, and only four more planned, the Sophie Sayers Mysteries are not about to deep root themselves in the cosiest corners of our psyches, in the same way that a M.C Beaton series might for sheer proliferate effort, and nor can it be said that Sophie is the modern day answer to Sherlock Holmes, but because she is so lovely, and the little village she lives in so terribly, eccentrically English, I simply cannot help but want to move next door to her and wile away my mornings writing in the bookshop, while she pours me cups of
(Though frankly, let it be said, that I am keen to move next door to almost anyone at this stage!)
So yes, if you need the gentlest of cosiest distraction on this icy cold February, then might I suggest that you too volunteer yourself for a short stay in Auntie May’s cottage?
It’s so terribly nice to find yourself among friends.