Gloria French used to be a jolly widow with dyed blonde hair, a raucous snigger and rosy cheeks. while she first moved from London to the fascinating Cotswolds hills, she was once heartily welcomed.  She appeared a do-gooder par excellence, elevating money for the church and taking good care of the elderly.  yet she had a foul behavior of borrowing issues and never giving them again, simply small issues, a teapot right here, a collection of silverware there.  So it is really the surprise whilst she is located lifeless, murdered by way of a poisoned bottle of elderberry wine.  Afraid the homicide could be a blight at the small city, Parish councillor, Jerry Tarrant, hires inner most detective Agatha Raisin to trace down the murderer.

But the village is secretive and the citizens resent Agatha's investigation. Of direction that does not cease the ever-persistent Agatha from investigating and sticking her nostril the place nobody wishes it—especially because the suspect checklist grows. And, as though it is not sufficient that Agatha's ex has reentered the image, the assassin is now focusing on Agatha!

With M.C. Beaton's Something Borrowed, Someone Dead  the bossy, useless, and completely impossible to resist, Agatha Raisin remains to be a fan favorite.

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At first, no one will speak ill of the dead. ” “Very comfortably off. Her house is worth at least half a million. She had a healthy amount of stock shares and a large bank balance. ” “There’s a son and daughter. But they both have alibis and were estranged from mother. ” “Aha, nothing,” said Bill gloomily. “He’s got a good job as managing director of a rival company, Neat Nibbles. And he’s only twenty-nine. ” “Tracey Altrop is married to a wealthy farmer. ” “We’ve thought of that. The wine was made by Mrs.

Agatha sat down opposite her. ” “I’ll wait outside,” said Simon. ” Agatha told Alice about the theft of the wine from her car. ” Agatha stared at her. Although she had told Bill that might be the case, the full horror of it struck her. Despite the heat in the mobile unit, she felt suddenly cold. A policeman came in carrying an electric fan, which he plugged in. It blew the hot air around and sent papers fluttering on desks. Agatha sat slowly down on a hard plastic chair. It seemed ages before Wilkes arrived, but glancing at her watch, Agatha realised she had only been waiting ten minutes.

We’ll take the car,” she said. “Why? We’re nearly there,” said Toni. ” Agatha drove in through the open gates of the manor. Lawns stretched on either side. There didn’t seem to be a bit of shade. Toni was glad to get back out into the sunshine because Agatha had blasted the air-conditioning so high that she had goose bumps on her arms. The manor house was a square Georgian building with a portico. It looked well kept and prosperous. Agatha rang a polished brass bell set into the stonework at the side of the door.