Blades of Justice by Jess FaradayBlades of Justice by Jess Faraday

Blades of Justice

byJess Faraday, Helen Angove, Rachel Green

Paperback | March 7, 2017

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The scissors are blacksmith worked, crude and blackened. They've always hung there at the door of Treagove. For three-hundred years they have played a part in murders and mysteries surrounding the women of the old house. Who says the tool of justice can't be domestic?Three Novellas Spanning Three Centuries of Mystery1798 ?Despite the danger, the abandoned tin mine had always been the place where Eseld and Rosie felt safest. But that was years ago. Eseld's beloved Rosie is dead, and the place where they used to meet now holds a deadly significance to someone else.1888 ? If anyone deserved to be murdered, it was Davy Sowden. So, Miss Eliza Bell is not surprised that someone has finally killed him. But when she and her lover, Alice, become suspects in his murder Eliza won't just need to prove who did it but also who didn't.1977 ? Melanie's first teaching job brings her to a seemingly dull Cornish village. But after meeting Bernadette Merrick she's inspired to dig into the villiage's past. Unfortunately for both women, someone is dangerously determined to keep old secrets buried.
Title:Blades of JusticeFormat:PaperbackDimensions:272 pages, 8 × 5.25 × 0.5 inPublished:March 7, 2017Publisher:Blind Eye BooksLanguage:English

The following ISBNs are associated with this title:

ISBN - 10:1935560468

ISBN - 13:9781935560463

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Read from the Book

From The Kissing Gate by Jess FaradayThe parson said, "Have you heard that he is dead? Actually dead, this time. I found his body just now. Jack and I were out taking our morning constitutional, when I came across Sowden lying in a ditch not far from your tavern, Mrs. Dowrick."Morwenna gasped. The parson popped a piece of bacon into his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully, swallowed, then wiped his mouth with the napkin. Beneath the table, Jack, the dog, whimpered. Mr. Greenhow absently tossed him a crust of bread. The idea of the dead body, or having found it, had not seemed to diminish the parson's appetite, nor to visibly bother him in any way. It was almost as if he considered it an intellectual problem, more than anything else."And," I continued, "having heard that I have some experience solving crimes, you thought to bring the matter to me?"The parson frowned. Chewed. Nodded. "Ye-es," he said, pausing to take a long sip of his cooling tea. "There is that. More specifically, though, I thought you'd be interested to know that your scissors are protruding from the victim's throat."

Editorial Reviews

"Faraday is a brilliant wordsmith who knows her way around the crafting of historical fiction." -- The Novel Approach