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And yet when the sleepy village of Habely is rocked by a series of bizarre murders and James Pettyfer is arrested after being caught whilst disposing of the bodies, he claims that he was made to do it by Elodia Knight - a lady who's capable of magic and can get into other people's souls.
While everyone else is sceptical of the claims, local Police Typist Armitage Black is nothing but intrigued about what's going on. Ignoring the warnings of her best friend, Angie Fallows, and the reprimands from Detectives investigating the case, Armitage delves into her own enquiries about what Knight is up to and why she's doing it - but the more she finds out, the more questions she has.
Armitage is determined to get to the bottom of Knight's plan and work out how she's making herself appear to be a witch - but Knight won't let anything stop her from achieving what she set out to do. As Armitage becomes more and more involved in the case, she finds herself becoming a target of Knight - and becomes embroiled in a battle of wits and determination that has the highest of stakes to everyone involved.
Read an Excerpt from Death by Curiosity
ONE.
Probably a controversial opinion, but I’m going to say it anyway.
Elodia Knight was interesting as hell, and anyone who says otherwise needs to check their definition of the word ‘excitement’.
Before you start thinking that I’m some lunatic who actively supports psychopaths and thinks that murder should be a socially acceptable hobby, let me just take you through it.
A couple of weeks before this all kicked off, some sweet old man had been walking his dog through Habely Woods when he stumbled across a lad’s body. I’m sure that would’ve been disturbing by itself, but this – if the papers were to be believed – was not a normal body. No, this guy had been killed in one hell of a brutal way; the papers hadn’t gone into too much detail, but what they had said was that he’d been found naked and posed in a strange position, with strange symbols carved into his body, a ‘significant injury’ to his left arm, and his throat slit from ear to ear. Which, in fairness, is weird enough, but what I couldn’t get my head around was the fact that this happened in Habely.
Habely.
I live in Habely with my best friend, Angie Fallows, and I have to be honest, it is far from the most exciting place on earth.
Pretty? Yes.
Interesting? No.
It’s about ten miles outside of Exleigh – a decent-sized town roughly halfway between Newcastle and York – and while I like it, particularly the number of cocktail bars it has, it’s the kind of place where it makes front page news when Myrtle loses her glasses, or George makes it through a whole day without shitting himself, or Rosemary’s cat runs away again. (Spoiler alert: Jingles is not Rosemary’s cat. In fact, the only reason he keeps staging the feline version of The Great Escape is because he’s trying to get back to his family.) So the fact that any murder at all, let alone such a bizarre one, could happen there blew my mind a little bit.
But it obviously worked for Knight, because exactly one week later, a couple of dogwalkers – luckily not the same old man this time, that probably would’ve finished him off – found another body in the exact same part of Habely Woods.
Another guy. He was eighteen-years-old, just like the last one, and he’d been on a night out with his friends when he left whichever club by himself and was never seen alive again, also just like that last one.
He was posed in the same position.
He had the same symbols carved into him.
Same significant injury to his arm.
Same cut to his throat.
And then a week after that, boom! Another body. Exactly the same again.
Except this time, the Police found it during one of their nightly stakeouts. And they didn’t just find the body; no, no, they found the person dumping the body while he was actually doing it. And when they dragged this lad – this James Pettyfer – into Custody, he broke down and told them that he didn’t have any memory of dealing with the bodies, and that he’d been made to do it by – you guessed it – Elodia Knight.
About the Author:
Like Armitage, I used to work for the Police – first as an Admin Assitant, then as a Police Typist, before working my way up to be an Executive Assistant. Also like Armitage, I have an older sister, parents who like to travel, a Black Labrador (and a decent share in a Staffordshire Bull Terrier), and a long-standing appreciation for sherry, so much so that my parents would have to hide their Christmas stash from me. Unlike Armitage, I’ve never (sadly) got myself involved in any Police mysteries; and I have a nephew and two nieces – Billy, Penny and Edie – who I love to pieces. Also unlike Armitage, I’ve moved on from the Police to work as a Governance & Compliance Officer for a Housing Association.
Dr B & I have so many plans for the next few years, and those definitely include me bringing you more of Armitage’s misadventures. I just hope that you enjoy reading about them as much as I enjoy writing them.
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