Daniel Kemp

Happy New year to all the readers of the Auntie M Writes Crime blog! This year Auntie M is stepping out from behind the personality of Auntie M to myself, Marni Graff, writer and mystery author of two series. I wish you all a healthy and happy 2020!

Over the past year, it has been my distinct honor to review 148 books on the blog. This doesn’t include the occasional guest I give a slot to, because the writing community is one of the most generous and giving I’ve been a part of, and it is my pleasure to share in that.

It’s also the time of year when I want to thank my followers of the blog, and hope you will continue reading into 2020.

I read about 3 books a week in all kinds of places and always carry a book with me wherever I go. This year…

I helped him eat his Christmas lunch,
The turkey turned out well,
The kitchen, redolent by noon,
With its delicious smell.

The Yorkshire pud all fluffy
And the roasties golden brown…
When asked if I was going to share
I couldn’t turn him down…

The Christmas pud was boozy
Full of cherries, steeped in brandy
… He thought a pint of custard
Might just well come in handy…

I’d baked a batch of fresh mince pies
Before the sun was rising
And with the sausage rolls I’d made,
The rest was not surprising…

I ate the after-dinner mints
As peppermint was needed
To combat overeating
And the calories exceeded.

Though Christmas comes but once a year
For tastebuds it’s a riot,
But come new year, I guess
That I’ll be going on a diet 😉

There are names that have been passed down through thousands of years which have powerful and deep-rooted meaning to their bearers. Other names have been adopted from other languages, cultures and from the big screen. They all have one thing in common. They are with us from birth until the grave and they are how we are known to everyone that we meet.

Brian – The Birthright

The firelight from the hearth flickered across the stampeding beasts on the wall of the cave. The clan leader Brynyar lay on the animal pelts and tried to gather his thoughts through the pain. He was old at over forty winters and his bones ached with arthritis.

The gash in his side from the bison during the final hunt of the summer had not healed well, and despite the wound being packed with herbs by the medicine woman, it hurt like hell.

His…