Today, at Celtic Connexions, I’m sharing an extract from Marsali Taylor’s latest novel, An Imposter in Shetland, and my review!
BLURB
When an internet lifestyle influencer arrives on Shetland to document her ‘perfect’ holiday, the locals are somewhat sceptical.
Joining a boat trip to the remote islands of St Kilda with sailing sleuth Cass Lynch and her partner DI Gavin Macrae, the young woman seems more concerned with her phone than the scenery.
But when it’s time to leave, there’s no sign of her. Despite mounting a desperate search, she’s seemingly vanished without trace – from a small island in the middle of the sea.
As a puzzling investigation gathers pace, there are more questions than answers – and uncovering the truth will reveal dark and long-hidden secrets…
FUN STUFF
Use three words only to describe your book to make us want to read it?
Mysterious – fast-moving – fun.
How did you get started writing?
I’ve always written, from when I was a child, and I was a compulsive reader too. I love stories, right from when Mum read the Narnia books to us at bedtime, and when I’m writing it feels like there’s something inside me uncoiling, struggling to get out. In terms of published writing, I’d written two historical romances and a detective trilogy, all still unpublished, before I invented Cass and found a publisher. I also wrote articles for our local magazine, Shetland Life, which was great training for word-count and deadlines. I’d advise anyone who wants to write to try submitting stuff to a magazine you enjoy. Check the word-count and what else is needed, and try imitating that. That’s how I ended up being a columnist for Practical Boat Owner. I get lovely letters from fellow-sailors all round the world, beginnign with phrases like, ‘You mentioned your leaking windows in your column – have you tried …?’.
EXTRACT
Vaila and Dawn dress Cass up to go clubbing:
‘Clothes first, Cass,’ Dawn said. She was grinning too. ‘And don’t look so worried. You’re going to look fashionably gorgeous.’
‘Gorgeous I can live with. It’s the fashionably that’s worrying me.’
‘We reckoned you and Vaila were not far off the same size,’ Dawn said, ignoring that, ‘so we got Mam to take us over to the Eid charity shop, and found you gear to go clubbing in.’
They led me through to their shared bedroom, where an array of clothes was laid out on the bed.
‘How about this?’ Dawn asked. She held up a white top with only one shoulder, and an incredibly short leather skirt.
‘Do I get leggings under the skirt?’
‘Absolutely not. The more leg on show, the better. It’s a good thing you’ve been in the sun these last few months, the white leg look is definitely not cool.’
‘She’s dark,’ Vaila said. ‘Shit.’ She gave me a minatory look. ‘When did you last shave your legs?’
‘Never,’ I said.
‘See, I told you.’ She dug under the tops for a pair of black pvc trousers. ‘Try these. And these.’ She picked up a pair of white shoes with impossibly high spike heels.
‘Bag,’ Dawn said. ‘To match the shoes.’ She shoved a white clutch bag the size of a slice of toast into my hand. ‘You tuck it under your arm.’
I squeezed into the clothes, then the lasses led me off like a lamb to the slaughter back into the living room, shoes in one hand – I wasn’t going to try walking in them till I had to. ‘If I can walk in them at all,’ I muttered.
‘Good idea,’ Gavin said. ‘Change her height.’
I was just about to see if the trousers would let me sit down when Peerie Charlie charged in, pink from his bath and looking unbelievably cute in dinosaur pyjamas. ‘Hello, Dass, hello, Gavin!’ He gave my clothes a doubtful look and decided to ignore them. ‘Mam, can I watch them making Dassup? It’s Saturday. I don’t go to bed for ages.’
‘No,’ I said.
‘You can watch a film,’ Inga said, coming in behind him. ‘Gavin, are you waiting to put Cass to Lerwick once the lasses have finished torturing her? Coffee? Have a seat on the couch.’ Gavin and Peerie Charlie settled comfortably facing the telly. The blaring opening of one of the Ice Age movies filled the room, and Dawn and Vaila protested in chorus. Inga turned it down, warned Peerie Charlie to leave it there, and put a plate of yo-yos in front of me. Peerie Charlie dived for two each for Gavin and him. I grabbed one before they all went, sat down and prepared to suffer.
It took the whole of the film to get me done. The 25-minute make-up influencer was a whizz-kid by comparison. They started with my nails, buffing and filing them before bringing out a box of plastic ones to lay on the table. There was a bit of discussion on which ones were which hand, then they put a dab of glue on each nail and held it on.
‘These will come off again?’ I asked. ‘And are you going to leave them this long?’
‘Yes and no,’ Vaila said. ‘Yes, they’ll come off, and no, we’re going to cut them. Hold still.’
‘Bless!’ Dawn said.
Even cut, they were still a good inch above my fingertips. I held out both hands to be painted on simultaneously – they were going for scarlet talons – and swallowed the complaints rising in my throat.
My skin came next. ‘Folk understand how important skincare is these days,’ Dawn said, wiping my soap-clean, thoroughly moisturised skin with stuff on cotton wool balls. Then there was toner and moisturiser. After that they put something called primer on, then stopped to discuss the snail-trail scar across my cheek, little-finger-width and bullet straight.
‘People’ll ken her from it,’ Vaila said. ‘We’ve got to make it disappear.’
‘Say less,’ Dawn replied, and they tried various creams, with a good deal of discussion of which would work best under foundation, and the occasional calling Inga out from the kitchen to agree or disagree. After that came what they called contouring, followed by cream blush, bronzer and highlighters, using a variety of pots and brushes.
‘Brows next,’ Dawn said. She selected what looked like a miniature flue-brush and began brushing my eyebrows upwards.
‘Not the gelled ones,’ I said firmly.
‘Soap brows,’ Vaila said. ‘Got to. Everyone has them.’
‘You don’t,’ I pointed out.
‘I’m younger. Can you see the spoolie, Dawn?’
‘I’m on it.’ Dawn produced a wider version of a mascara brush. ‘Lucky natural brows are in.’
‘There’s nothing natural,’ I retorted, ‘about having two spiky caterpillars crawling across your brow.’
‘Womp womp!’ Dawn said, incomprehensibly. Peerie Charlie took his attention temporarily from a mammoth and sabre-toothed tiger trading insults to look over, say ‘Womp womp!’ in reply and make a hand gesture I didn’t get the significance of. ‘Is Dass being difficult?’ he asked.
‘No,’ I said.
‘Not very,’ Vaila added, ‘but she might be soon. We’ll need to pluck a few stray hairs. Hold still.’
REVIEW
I’ve read earlier books in Marsali’s Shetland series, starring Cass and Gavin. This one certainly did not disappoint.
An influencer disappears on the isolated island of St. Kilda. But is that what really happened?
There were plenty of twists and turns, good guys and bad, and a couple of murders sprinkled in to add to the flavour.
Excellent read. I’m looking forward to her next Shetland novel.
HOW TO BUY
ABOUT MARSALI TAYLOR
Marsali Taylor grew up near Edinburgh, and came to Shetland as a newly-qualified teacher. She is currently a part-time teacher on Shetland’s scenic west side, living with her husband and two Shetland ponies. Marsali is a qualified STGA tourist-guide who is fascinated by history, and has published plays in Shetland’s distinctive dialect, as well as a history of women’s suffrage in Shetland. She’s also a keen sailor who enjoys exploring in her own 8m yacht, and an active member of her local drama group.
YOU CAN FOLLOW MARSALI AT THESE LINKS:
Website – https://www.marsalitaylor.co.uk
Amazon Author Page – https://www.amazon.co.uk/Marsali-Taylor/e/B0034PACI8/
Author Facebook Page –https://www.facebook.com/MarsaliTaylorAuthor/
