Tag: Secrets In The Sand

Look out for the 1st instalment in this 1st story in the Marvellous Mysteries series. My new series of mystery short stories in quirky towns at the coast.

The next episode will go live every Sunday for the next few weeks.

The prologue will be free and after that it will be password protected. Subscribers to my newsletter have access to the passwords for all posts in my #BlogAStory series here on my blog.

My newsletter subscribers received first dibs of the whole story yesterday and I’m so happy about the feedback I’m receiving.

Since this story is unedited with basic spelling and grammar checking done, you as readers are welcome to highlight any problems you have with character development, plot holes, etc. I appreciate every comment and opinion.

If you’re the reader of cozies or mysteries, this short story is for you.

Below is the blurb and prologue, also a work in progress. Let me know what you think.

Cheers!

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Secrets in the Sand

A Sweet & Cozy Coastal Mystery with Heart

In the quaint coastal town of Saltford Bay, where the gulls gossip and the waves seem to remember everything, Nona Puckle discovers more than just seashells on her morning beach stroll — she finds a cryptic message scrawled in the sand:

“Tell Vera. I forgive you.”

Known for her curious collection of seaside oddities (and her unapologetically mismatched shoes), Nona can’t let it go. With the reluctant help of her practical friend Bree and the ever-dapper Charles Alexander-Worthington the Fourth, she sets off to unravel the mystery behind the words.

What begins as an odd curiosity quickly leads them into a decades-old tale of lost love, long-buried secrets, and the heartache of a family torn apart by a stormy night in 1982. As they piece together the clues — a forgotten photograph, a hidden letter, and whispers of a secret child — the friends must confront the truth about forgiveness, the cost of silence, and the unexpected ways the past can reach across time.

Brimming with warmth, wit, and heartfelt discovery, Secrets in the Sand is a delightful short read about friendship, redemption, and the kind of small-town mystery that lingers like salt on the air.

Perfect for readers who enjoy:

✅ Cozy mysteries with heart and humour

✅ Sweet, clean storytelling with emotional depth

✅ Quirky characters with unforgettable charm

If you love stories by Jeanne M. Dams, Nancy Atherton, or Richard Osman — or simply enjoy a beachside mystery with heart — you’ll adore Secrets in the Sand.

Prelogue

The morning begins the way it always does in Saltford Bay: with seagulls squawking their grievances, the salty tang of the sea clinging to everything, and Nona Puckle traipsing down the beach in her odd shoes — one red, one yellow, both purposefully mismatched. Life is too surprising, just to be drained of colour by predictability

Nona is Saltford’s unofficial collector of oddities. Whether it’s a message in a bottle, a spoon carved from whale bone, or a questionable photograph of a man in a feathered boa — she finds it. She’s not young, but not yet middle-aged either, that odd place in time where one can still be referred to as ‘eccentric’ rather than ‘batty.’ And Nona likes it that way.

This morning, however, promises more than just tide-washed treasures. For as she bends to inspect what she thinks might be a shattered teacup, she notices something carved into the damp sand — not footprints, not doodles left by a child’s stick, but something deliberate:

‘Tell Vera. I forgive you.’

She straightens slowly, her hand still hovering mid-air. Then, as if she’s afraid the sea might reach out and gobble up the words, she crouches and scribbles the message into her pocket notebook — the one with a flamingo on the cover and suspicious tea stains.

Behind her, a voice cuts through the salty breeze.

‘Do you always crouch like that on public beaches? People might talk.’

It’s Bree Foster — breezy by name, breezy by nature. Bree is Saltford’s resident realist. Practical, punctual, and permanently in linen, she runs the town’s only art supply store and has never once purchased glitter.

Nona doesn’t look up. ‘Someone left a message. In the sand.’

‘Maybe it was for someone walking by. Or a prank.’

‘Then why would it still be here after high tide?’

Bree sighs. ‘What are you dragging me into this time?’

From the promenade steps comes the unmistakable clack of polished leather loafers. Enter Charles Alexander-Worthington the Fourth — though everyone in town just calls him Charles, which he allows with great magnanimity.

Charles is tall, perpetually overdressed for seaside weather, and maintains the air of someone who once considered becoming a duke but found the logistics tiresome.

‘Ladies,’ he says, nodding as though accepting a medal, ‘I had the peculiar sense I was needed.’

‘You weren’t,’ Bree replies.

‘But you are,’ says Nona, eyes alight with that peculiar gleam that makes Bree feel she’ll end the day with sand in her shoes and guilt in her heart.

*****