The Felicity Paradise series has been created by Debby Fowler.
Debby is a very experienced author with numerous publications to her credit (see biographical details). About three years ago she was chatting to her publishers about ideas for books and it was suggested that we might have a crime/detective series set in Cornwall.Obviously it had been done before; but a few days later Debby came back and said ‘I want to create someone a little bit different, not a detective, a woman with insight and tremendous personality; someone with lots of experience of life and a natural gift for communication - someone far from perfect, with lots of flaws, just like all of us ......someone believable.’
‘Felicity’s natural gift for communication doesn’t alas extend to her daughter. But that’s another story. The crime or detective story will run alongside the story of her new life – the life after her husband dies and she has to re-invent herself’.
So after much discussion the series was born – the books are written in chronological order in real time – so that in the first book ‘Letting Go’ the action takes place from May 2002 to May 2003 and the second book ‘Intensive Care’ from September 2003 to June 2004. The third book ‘The Silver Sea’ takes place between March and November 2005.
The fourth Felicity Paradise crime novel ‘Smoke Screen’ will be published in 2009.
She goes back to Oxford and standing on the pavement on Woodstock Road she sees the whole ‘accident’ played out in her ‘mind’s eye’
‘.....and looked up the road to the already speeding car. As it came towards her, she was dazzled by the headlamps and could see no detail of the car or its occupant. Biting her lip in concentration, she kept her eyes firmly on the car as it accelerated towards its hideous impact with Charlie. As the car flew past her, the interior was lit by a streetlamp from across the road. The features of the driver were blurred and shadowed but there was no mistaking the white streak of hair that stood out in stark contrast to the darkness surrounding the figure at the wheel.’
Jackie Butler in the Western Morning News reviewing ‘Letting Go’ said it
was –
‘....meticulously plotted, well crafted and easily digested tale with
all the loose ends revisited and tied up to the reader’s satisfaction.
Felicity is an attractive, mature character and easy to identify with –
fiercely independent, self willed and opinionated at times, insecure and
terrified at others.’’
Michael Williams in the Cornish Guardian –
‘Debby Fowler knows how to hook the reader from the opening pages, and
like all gifted storytellers, she knows too the importance of dialogue –
how it drives the story forward and illuminates the characters.’
‘Felicity looked down at the boy. The white blond hair was plastered to his head and he was clearly soaking, poor child, but what struck her with force was his obvious misery – his eyes were red ringed and it looked as though tears as well as rain were pouring down his cheeks’.
A highly successful business man with a holiday home in St Ives goes missing. His clothes are left on the beach. Has he drowned whilst surfing or has his disappearance been carefully staged
Months later Felicity thinks she seems him on Tresco, but it can’t be! The missing man is pronounced officially dead, but the case, if there is a case takes an unexpected and tragic turn.
Keith Penrose, newly appointed chief inspector, gently unravels the layers of deceit and deception only to find he’s left with a mystery at both ends of the investigation. Assistance comes as usual from Felicity, and from a very unlikely source, his wife Barbara. ‘Your precious Mrs Paradise didn’t think of that!’ And she hadn’t.
The story unfolds against the glorious settings of Tresco and St Michael’s Mount and of course Fizzie’s hometown of St Ives.
July 10th was another warm and sunny day on Tresco but
mercifully the breeze was back. Mel, Felicity’s daughter, arrived on the first helicopter and by
eleven o’clock, the family were assembled for Bucks Fizz and croissants on the terrace of their
rented cottage overlooking Old Grimsby. The table was piled high with presents and cards. A great
effort clearly had been made to make Felicity feel special, and she did. Before starting on her
presents, she opened her cards. There was a surprising number - from old friends and work colleagues
in Oxford and from her new friends in St Ives. The last card she opened was a breathtaking photograph
of Porthminster beach at dawn, the blues, greens and apricots, exquisite, the white sand tinged by a
reddened sky. Entranced she opened the card.
‘To Felicity Paradise, very best wishes on your special day. Keith Penrose, (Chief Inspector)’
‘Goodness,’ said Felicity, ‘promotion. He’ll be far too smart to talk to me now.’
I think I became the victim. I felt terrified as soon as I was in the hall,
it’s why I asked you to go, I needed to hang on to the emotion and not be sidetracked. In my
head I went to answer the front door, somebody had rung the bell. I opened the door and there
was a man standing there.’
‘Did you see what he looked like?’ Keith asked.
‘Yes, I did,’ said Felicity. As she spoke she felt the fear again. ‘He was a tall man, well-built, not dark skinned - but sallow, with a beard...
‘What happened then?’
‘I was terrified and I screamed - sorry, it all sounds rather pathetic.’
Debby says -
My writing career began with a rather dramatic fall down the stairs when I was 17. Not a drink had passed my lips, honestly. It was nine o’clock in the morning and the stairs in question belonged to the Corn Exchange in London, an ancient gothic pile with equally ancient gothic stairs.
During the six weeks in bed which followed, my boss, Tom Parker, visited me, allegedly to commiserate but in reality to winge at my non-appearance at work. He brought with him a variety of women’s magazines. I was very ungrateful. ‘Full of ghastly so-called romantic trashy stories,’ I grumbled. ‘I bet you couldn’t do any better,’ he replied.
I
have been writing ever since - 600 short stories, 14 novels, and 21
works of non-fiction published. Would any of it have happened if I
hadn’t been stupid enough to trip over my own two feet - I just don’t
know?
The Paradise crime novels fulfil for me a long held ambition to create a series of books, each of which is very different, but which develop the main characters as the stories unfold. The fact that Felicity lives in St Ives but spent many years in Oxford reflects my own life, but she is definitely not me. She is far more confident, bright and brave than I could ever be. I think the main reason for the choice of location is quite simply that I love St Ives - it is so cosmopolitan, all of life is here - the fishermen, the artists, the entrepreneurs, the authors, the surfers and of course the visitors, without whom nothing works. My husband, my children and I - we all love it to bits and couldn’t imagine living anywhere else now.
I do have a confession to make, though - Inspector Penrose bears more than a passing resemblance to my old boss, Tom (who sadly died some years ago). Perhaps, this is my way of saying thank you.
