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A Belinda Lawrence Mystery Book 1: Capable of Murder

by Brian Kavanagh

Extract from CAPABLE OF MURDER – book one in the series.

Brooding mists camouflaged the Palladian house and the land that fell away before it. Around the bridge over the lake the mists intensified but even through this vaporous shroud Belinda could see the beauty of the landscape. Mark had been delivering a knowledgeable commentary since their arrival at Prior Park and Belinda, recalling his historical diatribe at dinner recently, was not surprised at the extent of his knowledge.

‘1760,’ was his answer to Belinda’s question. ‘He was about forty-five when he created the gardens here at Prior Park. The first thing he would have done was restore the landscape to its natural regional features.’

Belinda nodded. ‘Jacob says that Brown expressed in his gardens the ideal English landscape.’ Mark looked askance at her. ‘Does he indeed? Well, he would say that, wouldn’t he? I’m surprised you didn’t ask him to show you around here.’

‘Actually, I did.’

‘I thought as much. What happened? Did he stand you up?’ Belinda shot him a withering look. ‘Jacob is staying in Wells. I don’t know when he will be home.’

‘And he gave you his version of Capability Brown’s expertise, no doubt?’ Belinda was surprised at Mark’s caustic tone. ‘Do you mean he’s lying?’ she asked doubtfully.

Mark shook his head. ‘No, it’s just that he is so academic about his gardening. But he’s essentially right. Capability was a purist. He created landscapes that didn’t need to acknowledge anything other than the landscape itself. Their beauty was self-contained. He created a vista that his clients could never have imagined.’

‘Does that apply to his small gardens?’ Belinda asked in an over-casual voice. Mark glanced at her. ‘So I’ve been told. I’ve never had the privilege of seeing one of his small gardens. He did so few.’

They made their way through the park, and the sun, filtering through the lifting mists, shone weakly over the gently rolling contours of Capability’s vision. Mark opened the car door for Belinda and walked around to open the other. Belinda watched him over the roof of the car. ‘Tell me, Mark, you’re knowledgeable about historical matters. Did Michelangelo ever paint in England?’

Mark leant on the car roof and looked at her, an amused smile on his lips. Belinda gave an irritable shake of her head.

‘Oh come on, Mark. I admit it. I’m ignorant. Just keep your self-satisfied attitude to yourself and answer my question. Did he?’

‘Never in England.’ Mark could not keep his amusement from colouring his voice.

‘Well, did he paint at the same time, in 1760 or whatever.’

‘Same millennium, but two hundred years earlier.’ Mark could not contain his amusement. Silently cursing him, Belinda took her seat in the car.

As they drove towards Milford in a strained silence, Belinda’s thoughts centred on the triangular scrap of paper she had snatched from Rosemary’s lifeless fingers. How did the word written on that fragment of parchment relate to Capability Brown and the mystery surrounding the garden? Silently, Belinda mouthed the name that tantalised her. ‘Michelangelo.’ But what was the connection?

(C) 2013 Brian Kavanagh

REVIEW: Originally seem on MuseItUp Reviews

A solid tale of greed, obsession, and murder.

“Capable of Murder” is a must read! Mr. Kavanagh has written a story I could not solve, something that has become a rarity for me. Thank you.

This tale is quite simple, really. The setting is on the outskirts of Bath, England. Belinda Lawrence is summoned, via a letter, by her reclusive great-aunt for a visit; however, ends up finding the aunt dead. Being the only living relative, Belinda inherits her aunt’s ancient cottage and dilapidated gardens. Belinda believes her aunt was murdered. Why? Because the letter summoning Belinda was mailed after her aunt’s supposed accident. That, and everyone Belinda meets seems to know more than they are willing to tell. Oh, and there’s that attempt on Belinda’s life as well.

Yes, “Capable of Murder” does seem a simple murder mystery, but it’s all in the telling and Mr. Kavanagh does a wonderful job at telling it. He has painted a clear picture of the cottage and gardens. The characters are engaging while being both straightforward and complex. The killer’s motive for murder is not the normal quest for money or power, but something more down to earth.

“Capable of Murder” is the first in the Belinda Lawrence series and I hope this will prove to be a long series as she and Mr. Kavanagh have a permanent place on my library shelves.


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A Belinda Lawrence Mystery 2 – The Embroidered Corpse

by Brian Kavanagh

excerpt from THE EMBROIDERED CORPSE, book two in the Belinda Lawrence mystery series.

This is the setting in Winchester, Hampshire.

Reverend Lawson made his way past Winchester Cathedral. The bus had deposited him safely at his destination and his indignation towards the troublesome young passengers dissipated although he had kept a wary eye upon them. He was relieved when, after the bus had drawn to a halt, they had pushed past the remaining travellers and, with an impressive display of immature animation, left the bus before disappearing into the evening mists.

The unpretentious façade of the Cathedral loomed above the vicar, but in his mind’s eye he recalled its cavernous interior and made a mental note to revisit it at the first opportunity. A remembered image of the mortuary chests located above the choir screens and reputed to have contained the remains of Anglo-Saxon kings brought to mind the justification of his visit to Winchester.

Pulling his coat close across his chest against any chill the night might offer, he clutched tightly at the bag containing the mysterious tapestry with the stitched image of William the Conqueror. He was eager to display it for Sir Gerald and anticipated many pleasurable moments in the forthcoming week as the two relived old times and pontificated on the origins of the embroidered work.

As he stepped from the shadows of the cathedral and hurried down Kingsgate Street to Sir Gerald’s house he was aware of activity somewhere behind him. Loud laughter and ribald comment that sounded familiar unnerved him and caused him to increase his stride.

Through the congealing mist Sir Gerald’s house appeared before him and with relief, he hurried up the steps, rang the bell and waited to be admitted. The insidious sniggering continued and he glanced over his shoulder. A streetlight switched on and beneath its glow he saw the young boy and girl, his aggravating travelling companions. They seemed consumed with each other and ignored him. He could smell the sour tang of chips and the greasy nauseating odour of hamburger.

To his relief, the door to the house was opened and he was admitted to its warmth and protection. The two young travellers seemed oblivious to his departure and continued feeding each other the unsavoury cuisine.

However, their laughter ceased and as the door closed behind Reverend Lawson they became silent and watchful. In the still Wessex night they were the only signs of human life in the now dark and deserted street. (C) 2013 brian Kavanagh

REVIEW: Originally seem on MuseItUp Reviews

Belinda is back and it’s still murder, but at who’s cost this time.

I’m caught between reviews here. I started “The Embroidered Corpse” immediately after writing my review of Belinda’s first mystery “Capable of Murder” which is the best way to read any series…no waiting period between tales. However, I can’t tell you who joins Belinda this time around without giving away clues to “Capable of Murder.”

What I will tell you is some characters do survive book one to “The Embroidered Corpse” and they, together with Belinda, are a delicious mix of uniquely diverse individuals. And, once more, Mr. Kavanagh murders with surprising twists of victims.

Belinda and company are caught in the history of a mediaeval English King and the tapestry that may or may not solve an ancient mystery. How Belinda finds herself in these mixes is truly a giggle. I, sometimes, feel as if I’ve discovered a grown up version of the Enid Blyton series “The Famous Five.” And, I do hope Mr. Kavanagh takes this as the compliment it’s meant…I searched all of Scotland for her books after foolishly giving them away as a teen.

What is it that has me matching these two authors? It is how they incorporate the landscape and buildings around the characters almost as separate characters. Both add dimension and pacing to the story telling. They add a flavour to each scene’s mood.

Another aspect of Mr. Kavanagh’s writing is the historical knowledge he peppers throughout the story. Never does this information dampen the telling, it only enhances the thrill of the solving.

Currently, I am reading Belinda’s third adventure (“Bloody Ham”) and, once again, I’m lost in Mr. Kavanagh’s world.

Thank you, Mr. Kavanagh.

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A Belinda Lawrence Mystery Book 3 – Bloody Ham

by Brian Kavanagh


Cathy’s bangle-covered wrists stopped their clattering. She looked up sharply. “Do you think that’s wise?”

Belinda smiled. “Why not? It’ll be dawn soon. The sky’s already getting light in the east. I’ll just stroll along the towpath by the river –”

Agitated bangles jangled even more violently as Cathy’s hand shot out and grasped hold of Belinda’s shoulder. Belinda flinched and tried to brush the woman away. But the hairdresser’s fingers held firm.

“Not the towpath,” she said. “Never the towpath at night.”

“Why not?” said Belinda, eventually breaking free. She rubbed her shoulder. The woman’s grip had hurt her.

“Why the ghost, of course.”

Belinda gave a sigh. She was too tired to put up with Cathy’s warnings of doom. “Not another ghost?”

Cathy nodded violently, eyes wide with alarm. “He walks there at night.”


“They call him the Cavalier. Some say his appearance is the harbinger of death. They believe him to be someone from the house, one of the Duke’s servants. They say he got drunk and fell into the river and drowned. He walks the towpath searching for the way back to the house.”

“If he opened his eyes, it’s right in front of him,” said Belinda rather sharply. She was tired and wanted to go to bed and was not in the mood for a spook story. She turned to go.

“But now’s the time they walk. The spirits. Just before dawn.” Cathy was becoming agitated.

“I’ll be well home before they start their performance,” said Belinda, as she stepped out into the shadows.

Cathy, fingering a talisman she wore on a chain around her neck, stood at the caravan steps and watched as Belinda made her way diagonally across the knot garden towards the front of the house and the river.

(C) 2013 Brian Kavanagh

REVIEW: Originally seem on MuseItUp Reviews

We’ve heard the movie making business is cutthroat well Belinda’s about to find out just how cutthroat it can be.

Again, I’ve had the opportunity to read Belinda’s third mystery straight after book two and book one. So, it really wouldn’t be fair to tell you who Belinda’s cohorts are; however, there is a marriage proposal on the table. Will she or won’t she? You’ll just have to read and find out.

But never doubt that each book is it’s own stand-alone tale. I just happen to be a tad fanatical in my series order reading.

This time around, Belinda has been asked to stand-in for a Hollywood actress during the boring hours of movie making. The same actress who has stepped into the role left by the death of another…murder? The same actress whose not-so-secret affair with the movie’s producer has ended in murder? Too bad only Belinda’s fingerprints were on the murder weapon.

“Bloody Ham” is another triumph for Mr. Kavanagh. Which makes my job as a reviewer that much easier and harder…I thoroughly enjoy “Bloody Ham” but what more can I possibly tell you about Mr. Kavanagh’s writing.

Mr. Kavanagh has not let up on his crisp characters, sweeping mystery, vast subject knowledge, picture perfect settings and dead-on moods. With each Belinda story just fewer than 200 pages, Mr. Kavanagh utilizes each word for maximum benefit. There is no wastage within his pages.

Mr. Kavanagh has also managed to keep each recurring character fresh. He has introduced new aspects to these characters that allow us, his readers, to see them with new eyes and emotions while still keeping them true to their personalities.

I cannot suggest strongly enough that you join Belinda in “Bloody Ham.”

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A Belinda Lawrence Mystery Book 4 – A Canterbury Crime

by Brian Kavanagh


Tommy gave a yelp as Belinda began to pull away from him but he tightened his grip and dragged her towards worn stone steps that led down into a frightening black void.

“Where are we going?”

Tommy, ignoring the sanctity of his surrounds sang softly and mischievously: “Dem bones, dem bones, gonna walk aroun’ Dem bones, dem dry bones, gonna walk aroun’ Now hear the word of the Lord.”

“Yes, well, I’m in the mood to break a few,” muttered Belinda.

As they descended the shadows intensified, Belinda stumbled, clung to Tommy to prevent herself from falling and cursed him under her breath in a most unchristian manner. Eventually they reached a point where Belinda was utterly immersed in an impenetrable blackness that seemed to swallow her up.

Tommy released his grip and stepped away from her. Panic rose in Belinda’s chest as the pitch black weighed down on her. She gave a whimper of fear as her outstretched arms sought some form of security.

“Tommy, you idiot. Where are you?”

It was then that a beam of light shot through the darkness. Belinda blinked in the sudden light and saw illuminated before her the face of the Virgin.

Tommy had turned on a torch.

“It’s Our Lady of the Undercroft,” he said, a curious reverence in his voice. The white stone of the altar surrounding the Madonna glowed bright in the torch light and Belinda glimpsed a wonderful display above her of early Norman vaulting, supported by robust columns, with carved Romanesque capitals crowning each pillar.


Belinda shook her head in bewilderment.

“So no one knows if his bones are actually here in the cathedral? If the other grave proved to be false, why don’t they excavate this one to see if there’s someone buried here?”

With a laugh, Tommy sang softly: “Moral of the story be, Dem bones gonna rise again. Don’t leave your cores for the Lord to see. Dem bones gonna rise again.”

He took her arm once more and they moved away from the tombs.

“I think I’ve had enough talk about Thomas for one night,” he said in a low voice close to Belinda’s ear, “and I don’t know about you, but I find it a bit chilly down here. How’d you like to warm me up?”

The light from the torch was suddenly extinguished and Belinda felt Tommy’s arm slide around her waist. She tried to push him away, but he tightened his grip.

“Tommy, let go. Grow up.”

His face was close to hers.

“Come on, Belinda, you know you want to. Don’t tell me you really fancy that cold fish twerp that hangs around you.”

His lips sought hers and he forced a kiss on her.

Belinda struggled and broke free, grabbing the torch as she did. She hit out and struck him on the head. He gave a yelp and as the torch flew from her hand Belinda heard it clatter to the floor and roll away. Fear and panic rose in her chest. In the total dark she could see nothing but she turned in an effort to get away from Tommy and started to run.

With a thud, she ran straight into one of the huge pillars and screamed in fright. The impact stunned her and took her breath away. She heard Tommy hoarsely calling her name but he seemed a distance away so steeling herself she pressed forward in the dark, holding her hands before her to prevent running into another obstacle.

After what seemed an eternity she saw a pale light in the distance. The steps. If she could reach them she would be safe as she could escape up to the nave. The light increased a little as she neared the steps. As she reached the bottom one, she looked up and froze. The eerie figure of a man was silhouetted against the faint light. He was descending towards her. Frozen to the spot she watched in terror as the figure grew closer and closer.

(C) Brian Kavanagh


Well now this review writing is way overdue.

It’s has nothing to do with Brian’s writing or storytelling…he still captures my attention and causes me to lose myself in Belinda’s world. It has everything to do with my lack of words to repeat how wonderful it is to be back in Belinda’s world.

Reading “A Belinda Lawrence Mystery” is visiting long time friends. I know how cliched that sounds, but in the volume of works out there to read, I want to visit good friends. I want to discover new friends.

Brian gives me this each and every time. It also doesn’t hurt there’s a mystery involved, which, for the most part, I can’t solve by page ten.

“A Canterbury Crime” had me a bit confused. It’s not a typical mystery, but (for me) rather something Belinda and Hazel stumbled into. A curiosity kills the cat type trapping. And they pulled me along with them.

I must admit, I’m finding myself not the biggest fan of Belinda’s boyfriend, Mark. I can’t quite put my finger on why. Now normally, when the word ‘stiff’ is used in conjunction with a writer’s work it’s not a good thing. But, that’s how Mark strikes me…stiff, but that’s not Brian’s writing. For me Brian has smoothly written a character who I can easily peg as reminding me of someone I know in reality. Bringing characters to life is no easy thing.

For me, Brian’s writing isn’t fast-paced. He’s not an author I pick up and know I’m getting a quality fix. He’s someone I pick up for quality, definitely. I pick him when I need to curl up in my easy chair and let the world carry on without me for a while.

Thank you Brian.

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A Belinda Lawrence Mystery Book 5 – A Wicked Design

by Brian Kavanagh


Jasmine Sinclair was a tall statuesque blonde, expensively dressed and cool to the point of being frosty. She offered a perfectly manicured hand to greet Belinda. “So you’re Belinda? Brad told me so much about you.”

“I’ll bet he did,” thought Hazel.

As Jasmine examined Belinda, the way she would no doubt examine a dubious fashion item, Belinda couldn’t shake off the feeling she had seen the woman before. But that was not possible. She put the thought out of her mind. “I’m pleased he did. Then you can understand just how upset I am at his murder.”

Jasmine flinched slightly at the word. “Yes. His death came as a great blow to us all.”

They took their seats at a small lounge area in an office. The window in the high rise building afforded a wide view of Port Phillip Bay, the beaches stretching in an arc down towards the Mornington peninsula. Belinda looked around. The wall held a display of architectural awards bearing Brad’s name. “So this is Brad’s office?”

“Was his office,” said Jasmine.

“Bitch,” thought Hazel.

Belinda let the woman’s tactlessness pass. “We were wondering if you could give us any idea of how or why he was killed.”

Jasmine examined her fingernails. “I would have thought you’d already read the papers.”

Hazel, sensing that Belinda was finding the situation difficult, spoke up. “But we thought you would know more details.”

Aloof, Jasmine transferred her look to Hazel. “Why would you think that?” The frost in her voice grew heavy. “I’ve told the police all I know. I wasn’t there when he died and I didn’t murder him.”

“But,” said Hazel in counterfeit honeyed tones, “as his secretary and being so close to him, you’d know if he had any enemies or was engaged in any activities or projects that might have led to his murder. After all, a really good secretary knows where the bodies are buried.” She gave a patronizing smile.

Jasmine stared at Hazel for a moment before addressing Belinda. “As you were such and old and close friend of Brad’s, all I can tell you is that, as far as I know,” she glanced briefly at Hazel, “there was nothing in Brad’s life or work that would be considered – questionable.”

“I’m sure of that,” said Hazel with false appease-ment, “but the police and the papers haven’t really given details, except he had his hands tied and had been hit on the head. A blunt instrument was it?”

Jasmine frowned, or as much as she could. A Bo-tox junkie, thought Hazel. “What do you mean, a blunt instrument?”

“Isn’t that what they always say? Hit on the head with a ‘blunt instrument’?”

Jasmine’s lips tightened. “I really wouldn’t know,” she spat out.

“And this ‘blunt instrument’, say an iron bar. Or perhaps one made of silver? Was it used in his apartment? Was he murdered there and then dumped in the river?”

Jasmine’s cheeks reddened and her voice became low and heated. “As I said, I really wouldn’t know. I’ve al-ready told the police I was working here in the office the night Brad died, but I don’t see why I need to tell you.”

Hazel lifted her eyebrows expressing doubt. There was an awkward silence. Belinda began to feel that soon Jasmine would throw them out. She gave a tentative cough to draw attention back to herself. “What projects was he working on?”

Jasmine gave a weary sigh. “I’ve told all this to the police. The most obvious thing was his desire to build the dome on Parliament House. Apart from that he had a number of projects at various stages of development. Some apartment blocks, a few contracts for private houses. That’s more or less it, apart from a corporate building.”

“Where were these projects?” said Hazel.

Jasmine continued looking at Belinda. “The apartment blocks, down in the Quay area. The houses spread here and there. Chiefly in country areas close to the city. The Dandenong’s mainly.”

“Dandenong’s?” said Hazel. “What’s a Dan-denong?”

Jasmine sniffed. “The Dandenong Ranges. The mountain range nearby.”

“You mentioned a corporate building.” said Belinda.

“Yes. Work there is well underway. It’s in Little Lonsdale Street near Spring Street. Some old houses were removed. Of course, the greenies and the heritage mob complained, as they usually do. But they lost out and the excavation for the new building foundations is already underway.”

“And you don’t think these activities had anything to do with his murder? I mean, a payback from groups he may have offended, or corporate management that had an axe to grind, or a jealous associate?”

Jasmine got to her feet. “I’m afraid you’re talking nonsense. Now you really must excuse me. As you can appreciate, we have to carry on with Brad’s work, and arrange for other architects to take over, that is until we can sort out what happens to the company.” She moved towards the door.

Belinda and Hazel rose and followed her. They moved into the foyer and Jasmine pressed the elevator button. There was another awkward silence before Belinda muttered a feeble ‘thank you’.

“I really think you should speak to the police, if you want further details about Brad’s death,” said Jasmine dismissively, “there is nothing more for me to add.”

Belinda felt whatever Jasmine knew or suspected, she wasn’t prepared to part with it. The lift door slid open and Belinda and Hazel entered. They turned as the door closed. Jasmine was watching them, her eyes steely and unfeeling. Once again Belinda had the curious feeling she had seen Jasmine before.

(C) Brian Kavanagh


Now hot on the heels of my previous review for “A Canterbury Crime” I get to visit Belinda in “A Wicked Design.” If you’ve just read the other review, you know I’m not Mark’s biggest fan…Belinda’s boyfriend. Boy, I was thrilled at the mess Brian wrote for Mark this time around.

I had even more fun with Hazel this time around. Now this lady I would love to know in real life. She just grabs and runs with the moment…and if that moment is a cute male, all the more fun.

I know I shouldn’t have this much fun with murder and politics, but “A Wicked Design” is too much a treat.

With “A Canterbury Crime” I enjoyed curling up and moving into the book. Here at “A Wicked Design” I was still curled up, but I found myself feeling a faster pace setting in. Could Mark really be ex-boyfriend Brad’s killer? What would that do to Belinda? Given my mixed feelings about Mark, how would I feel if he was…wasn’t?

Here is where I’ve discovered the diverse nature of Brian’s writing. Reading both these books back-to-back, one had me in a much quieter mood (A Canterbury Crime) whereas “A Wicked Design” I felt I was racing against the clock. Both completely satisfying and not as easy as you would think for any writer.

It takes a dedicated writer to pull their series characters through each story without a formula developing. A formula which can then become an anticipated pattern. Don’t get me wrong, I do like my pattern favourites…Nancy Drew and The Hardy Boys, along with The Famous Five books come to mind. However, I do appreciate an author who knows how and when to grow their characters. What pace the story being told requires…and listens to the story’s demands for that pace.

Having been a fan of Belinda’s since book one, closing “A Wicked Design” I feel there’s a whole new chapter opening up for her. A new path she’s going to travel down and I’m curious to know what that brings her. What decisions she makes.

Way to go, Brian. I’m forgetting she’s a fictional character and you’re her creator. I do hope you keep an ear open and a blank screen ready for what Belinda wants next.

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A Belinda Lawrence Mystery Book 6 – Murder on the Island

By Brian Kavanagh


“The ferry leaves St Malo at noon. Better make it 7.00,” said Belinda, “we don’t want to miss it and have to face your mother’s wrath.” She smiled and as Mark phoned to book the car she walked to the window. Below her flowed the Seine and, seemingly floating in the river, the Île de la Cité and the east end of Notre Dame with its fine display of flying buttresses. Beyond, the Latin Quarter and on the horizon the Panthéon, housing the remains of distinguished French citizens from Voltaire to Victor Hugo. Belinda smiled as she recalled, as a young tourist, her first visit to Paris and now, she was engaged, her future husband had a title and consequently she was to be, Lady Sallinger. Not for the first time she considered the path her life had taken in the intervening years, from Australian backpacker, to property owner when her murdered Great Aunt left her a cottage in Somerset, her friendship with Hazel Whitby and through her, an introduction into the world of buying and selling antiques.

She wondered how the next few days would be. The invitation from Melba to join her at her house on the island of Guernsey had come, more or less as a command, to plan their wedding. The fact her parents and Hazel Whitby were to be fellow guests provided some comfort for Belinda.

“Car booked. Hadn’t we better pack?” Mark’s question interrupted her thoughts, and she turned to the bedroom and began to sort out clothing.

“Just what is this house your mother has?”

“On Guernsey? An old Tudor house father bought some years ago. One of his companies initially bought it as an investment; had some idea of turning it into a boutique hotel, but time went on and they never got around to doing anything with it, so the old boy took it off their hands at a knock-down price, crafty old bugger. When he died, mother inherited it, and she has some crazy scheme about restoring it and retiring there.

“By the way, her email says we are to expect two additional guests. Some priest my mother argues theology with. Mother has a fixation with Rome and has been known to reduce the Holy See to tears. It’s rumoured the Pope has been heard to plead, ‘will no one rid me of this troublesome woman?’ And a writer, talking of troublesome; a woman doing research on the Nazi occupation of the island. Can’t see those two providing much entertainment.”

Belinda gave a murmur of acknowledgement and busied herself with packing. Her thoughts were scattered; the prospect of time spent with his mother, would they get on?

A Tudor house to explore; the freshness of the island of Guernsey off the coast of France.

An unexpected image flashed into her mind. Mark’s tale of the midwife dragged from her bed in the middle of the night. The baby thrown into the fire. Belinda shivered. But the image stayed with her – like a horror movie. Repeating…repeating…

© 2016 Brian Kavanagh



What a…  He didn’t!  Whoa, didn’t expect that. YES!! Oh wow, interesting.

And dang, didn’t like that.

And that’s all I’m going to write cause if you haven’t guessed I loved this one, you haven’t read enough of my reviews to know me…yet 😉

All right, Mr. Kavanagh, where and when’s the next one?



Product details

  • Paperback:196 pages
  • Publisher:Vivid Publishing (November 20, 2018)
  • Language:English
  • ISBN-10:1925846431
  • ISBN-13:978-1925846430

Product details

  • File Size:1744 KB
  • Print Length:127 pages
  • Publisher:Vivid Publishing; 1 edition (November 27, 2018)
  • Publication Date:November 27, 2018
  • Sold by:com Services LLC
  • Language:English


Power. Envy. Greed. Lies. All surround amateur sleuths Belinda Lawrence and Hazel Whitby in this maze of personalities.

An invitation to a private screening at a film group involves them in more than the cinematic arts.

Murder and the search for a long-lost film, involve them in more hair-raising adventures as they begin to investigate each member of the group, all of whom could be potential murderers.

Belinda’s skills are tested as she faces the greatest danger in her sleuthing life.

My Review:

Jump right in the action starts immediately and it’s a wild ride.

Not a whole lot I can actually say without giving everything away, but can you guess how many times Hazel gets wet? Yeah, those are fave scenes for sure.

If you thought Hazel might be a tad out there, wait, there are a few others here that make Hazel look perfectly normal.

Mr. Kavanagh, I have no way of explaining this visit, it’s different from Belinda’s other adventures. Not at all what I expected after last time. I’m just a little perplexed.

I’m trying to figure out how to explain it all, and it is fun, and now I’m thinking it’s very much like the movie CLUE with Tim Curry. The last unveiling of the murderer times three. We have a group of characters…this is it exactly!

Mr. Kavanagh, you put Belinda and Hazel in the midst of a group of clue-like characters and a dead body. Except you are hiding: who; not-so-much how; why. I don’t know if this was your intention, but this is what I’m walking away with.

I love it. Now I feel a complete connection to the story and like my favourite game and movie, I had to clue whatsoever who; not-so-much how; or why until it was opened in front of me by someone else.

Well done!