A typical day? I don’t know what’s typical these days, what with those poor, downtrodden apple sellers on the corner at all hours and Broadway simply teeming with soup lines. I tell you, it’s all I can do to stop myself from trundling down there myself with the remainder of Cookie’s lentil stew, though she’s a beastly tyrant, and that would never do.

But I’m rambling. Viv tells me I’m an awful rambler.

Being twins, we tend to be the keepers of each other’s faults. We’ve had quite a time of it, ever since Uncle Teddy and Titus jumped from the rooftop of the Ansonia that day the stock market crashed, though I told Viv, it was probably just one of their larks. Then we took in boarders to make ends meet because Canary House is awfully large, and there’s only the five of us now, what with Father and Mother and Auntie Lavinia, and Vivian and me, who are nearly eighteen. Of course, there’s the staff, who are more like family than Mother and Fa— well, let’s just say, they’re good in a pinch. Mrs. Lurch has been running the house ever since her days as a Canadian Mountie, and then there’s Cookie who can’t abide telephones but makes the best scones in Manhattan, and Old Horace who’s been deaf in one ear ever since his Civil War days, and—

Am I rambling again?

Now that we have the tenants, the house is positively bursting at the seams— except that we can never seem to let out the turret room for more than a few days. I think Grampy Cornelius must have cursed it before he absconded with the mystic, but Viv thinks that’s perfect nonsense. She prefers to have evidence before reaching a conclusion, but I don’t see why one need bother when the truth is staring you in the face. I learned everything I know from reading books, which is what I’d be doing now, if I weren’t talking to you. As for Viv, she’s constantly dragging me into her intrigues, along with half the tenants. There’s Mr. Sharma who’s a retired diplomat (though one wonders how he managed with his stutter), and Madame Koslova and Ms. Sphinx, who are beastly rivals, and Al, who’s just the nicest bootlegger you will ever meet and can’t sit still unless he’s loading his pistol. And don’t forget dreamy Mr. Sparrow who plays up in Harlem, and Dr. Weber who’s a very learned psychiatrist, even if he is a trifle stale.

Have I told you about the turret room?

We were so excited the night our seventh tenant finally checked in, only to find it was none other than Babs Le Roy! You know, the Ziegfeld Follies star? Or at least she used to be, before she disappeared from the limelight, only to turn up on our doorstep. She’s determined to make a comeback, and oh! She simply reeks of glamour, except that her makeup is always a bit askew, and she will start at shadows, and, well, between you and me, I think she’s harboring a tragic secret. Even Viv agrees, which makes a nice change, and that explains why we were sticking our noses where, frankly, they didn’t belong, right up until the day Babs—

Oh, dear, that would be Viv now, clanging about upstairs, in an absolute state. But you can learn all about what happens to Babs in The Starlet Letter, which is rather a clever pun on my favorite book. Terribly nice meeting you, and all, and do come again!

The Starlet Letter, A Canary House Mystery Book #1
Genre: Historical
Release: June 2023
Format: Print, Digital
Purchase Link

Book One of The Canary House Mysteries, a tongue-in-cheek historical mystery series featuring amateur sleuths and literary themes.

When a washed-up Ziegfeld Follies star goes missing, can the Van der Beeck twins crack the case without breaking their necks… or losing their hearts?

It’s 1931, and the once grand, always eccentric Van der Beecks have taken in borders to make ends meet. Canary House, their rambling Upper West Side mansion, boasts six tenants: a pianist, a poet, an erstwhile diplomat, a psychiatrist, a bootlegger, and a philanthropist who is always short on cash. Life has never been more interesting until a seventh checks into the turret room – Babs Le Roy, a washed-up Ziegfeld Follies star with more than one skeleton in her cluttered closet.

It’s all the twins can do to mind their own business. Nearly eighteen, they only look like angels. Vivian has a nose for trouble and Viola has her nose in a book, but between the two of them, the villain doesn’t stand a chance – if only they can find one to spice things up. Then Babs goes missing, and one ransom note, two gangsters, and a handful of red herrings later, the twins find themselves confronted with more villains than they bargained for. Throw in a soft-boiled detective, a handsome sergeant, and a houseful of tenants graced with more whimsy than wit, and you have the makings of a mad-cap mystery that will keep you guessing till the end.

Meet the author
JULIE MATHISON is the multiple award-winning author of books that seek to transport and enrich readers while entertaining them. Her author imprint, Starr Creek Press, is founded on the principle of “books not boxes,” the belief that a good book should transcend genre and category and should be enjoyable to readers of any age. She also writes and speaks about the interface of traditional and independent publishing, and the role of quality self-publishing in maintaining a robust and healthy literary ecosystem.

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