Mrs Cissie Partridge

As a writer I have often struggled to classify my novels.  Romance?  Well… there is romance in them but they certainly don’t fall into the typical enemies-to-lovers or friends-to-lovers formats of most romantic novels.  Contemporary Fiction?  Some are.  Sagas?  Sort of.  Women’s Fiction? Getting warmer!  All of my books feature strong women.  But all the years I have been writing there was one genre that I’d always wanted to attempt: cozy mysteries.

When I went to live in Spain as a 19-year-old holiday rep — or courier as we were known in those days — clients would often offer me their paperbacks when they were leaving.  I’ve always been a voracious reader and I was extremely grateful for their generosity.  Thus I discovered so many authors, Jackie Collins, Harold Robbins, Sidney Sheldon, Mario Puzo, Alistair Maclean to mention just a few.  However, there was one author’s name I was always delighted to see on my gifted books: Agatha Christie.

I devoured her books and fell into every trap, followed every red herring as the Queen of Whodunnits totally blindsided me.  I never once guessed who the murderer was.  I’ve also watched all the TV Miss Marples over the years, my favourite being Geraldine McEwan and I must have seen every episode of David Suchet as Poirot a dozen times.  From time to time over the years I would ask myself “Can I write a murder mystery?”