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17 December 2022

Not Mushroom For Death by Helen Golden Book Tour!

 


Not Mushroom For Death

TV Chef Luca Mazza Dies After Collapse at Food Show on the King’s Private Estate

Luca Mazza (38), who was taken ill during a food demonstration at the Fenn House Food and Wine Festival two days ago, is now known to have ingested poison. Lady Beatrice (36), the king’s niece, who is working on a refurbishment project at Fenn House with her business partner Perry Juke (34), is believed to be comforting Luca’s boss and close friend Sebastiano Marchetti (38), who she began dating last month.

Is he crazy? Why else would Detective Chief Inspector Richard Fitzwilliam suggest that Sebastiano poisoned Luca without any evidence? So now, with the help of her little dog Daisy and her best friends Perry and Simon, Lady Beatrice will have to prove to Mr Know-it-all Fitzwilliam that Seb is innocent. But with so many people having access to the food preparation area at the show how will she find out who did murder Luca before Fitzwilliam lets his personal dislike get the better of him and arrests Seb?

Amazon - https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0BFBMT9BP (UK) and https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BFBMT9BP (US)

Intro

Lady Beatrice, the Countess of Rossex, and her business partner Perry Juke are at Fenn House, the private country estate of Lady Beatrice’s uncle, King James, to manage the redesign and refurbishment of ten guest suites and four sitting rooms. At the same time the Fenn House Food and Wine Festival is taking place in the grounds of the estate organised by Lady Beatrice’s new beau (who she is now having second thoughts about) Sebastiano Marchetti, known to his legion of fans as Chef Seb. Perry’s crime-writer partner, Simon Lattimore, who was last year’s winner of Celebrity Elitechef, is also on-site hosting cooking demonstrations. One of the other big names from the world of food, Chef Seb’s very good friend Luca Mazza, collapsed during the opening demonstration and later died in the hospital from ingesting death cap mushrooms.

Chief Inspector Richard Fitzwilliam and Detective Sergeant Tina Spicer from Protection and Investigation (Royal) Services, PaIRS for short, have been called in to assist Fenshire CID with their investigation and make sure Lady Beatrice is in no danger. When their previous case together had wrapped up the month before, Fitzwilliam’s parting comment to Lady Beatrice, much to her indignation, had been to be wary of Seb’s intentions… 

 Extract

Head down, following the low hedging that framed the formal gardens, Lady Beatrice headed towards Fenn House, her mind drifting to Seb. I hope he’s finding some comfort being with Luca’s family. She grimaced. How was she going to tell him she wanted to slow things down when he was so clearly devastated by Luca’s death…

Someone forcefully cleared their throat, and startled, Lady Beatrice ground to a halt. Raising her head, she was confronted by a man and a woman. She suppressed a groan as she recognised them.

The tall man with short brown hair slightly greying at the temples stared at her grimly while the pretty fresh-faced woman next to him smiled and held her hand out.

“Hello, Lady Rossex,” DS Spicer said.

Taking a deep breath in, Lady Beatrice returned the woman’s smile and shook the offered hand. “DS Spicer. It seems like only a few weeks since I last saw you.”

Spicer laughed. “Yes, my lady.” It had, in fact, been only four weeks ago when they had wrapped up the investigation into the murder of her mother’s friend’s visiting cook.

Her blood pressure rising, she felt Detective Chief Inspector Richard Fitzwilliam’s eyes bore into her forehead.

It’s no good, Bea. You can’t just ignore him.

She swallowed. What could she say to the man who, last time she’d seen him, had told her that her boyfriend was using her and she should dump him? All right, that hadn’t been his exact words, but the implication had been clear. And it’s none of his business! She looked up into the brown eyes of the man who made her madder than any other person she knew. Don’t let him see how much he ruffles your feathers.

She plastered on her public ‘how nice to meet you’ smile. “Chief inspector. Here sticking your nose into other people’s business, are you?”

He smiled back, but there was no warmth in his eyes. “Yes, Lady Rossex. That’s my job. We’re here to find out who poisoned Luca Mazza.”

Who poisoned him? Surely, it had been an accident.

“But it was an accident, chief inspector. No one deliberately poisoned him.”

“And you know this how, my lady?” He smirked and held up his hand. “No. Don’t tell me. You and your pals have already completed your investigation, and you’re on your way right now to present the facts to Mike Ainsley. Case closed!”

I bet he thinks he’s hilarious. She wanted to stick her tongue out at him but knew it would be a childish gesture and likely to make him laugh at her even more. No, Bea. What’s required is a dignified and calm response. “Well, it wouldn’t be the first time me and my pals have solved a case for you, DCI Fitzwilliam.”

Ever the diplomat, DS Spicer cleared her throat. “We have to consider all avenues of inquiry, my lady. But it looks like it was an accident.”

“Unless, of course, your boyfriend killed off his rival for the crown of cheesy television chef of the year.” Fitzwilliam chuckled.

What? Was he accusing Seb of being a murderer? Her body tensed. Oh my gosh, what happens if he frames Seb just to prove a point?

She wouldn’t put it past him. Her arms twitched. I need to get out of here. But first she racked her brain for a suitable put-down. “You… you…” She came up blank. “You idiot!” she cried as she turned on her heels and stormed off without saying goodbye.

Classy, Bea! You called him an idiot. She raised her chin to catch some of the chilly breeze on her face to cool down the heat flushing across it. That hadn’t been her finest hour.


Hello. I’m Helen Golden. I write British contemporary cozy whodunnits with a hint of humour. I live in small village in Lincolnshire in the UK with my husband, my step-daughter, her two cats, our two dogs, sometimes my step-son, and our tortoise.

I used to work in senior management, but after my recent job came to a natural end I had the opportunity to follow my dreams and start writing. It's very early in my life as an author, but so far I'm loving it.

It’s crazy busy at our house, so when I’m writing I retreat to our caravan (an impulsive lockdown purchase) which is mostly parked on our drive. When I really need total peace and quiet, I take it to a lovely site about 15 minutes away and hide there until my family runs out of food or clean clothes

Insta: www.instragram.com/helengolden_author

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