Blog Tour Extract from Broken Branches by M. Jonathan Lee

The Crime Warp is honoured to host an extract for M Jonathan Lee's new novel Broken Branches.

Following the tragic death of Stuart Perkins, his younger brother Ian moves into the family home with his wife and young son.

Grief and loss hang heavy over the house and Stuart’s death has prompted Ian to delve into the rumours of a mysterious family curse which has allegedly been the cause of several tragedies in the Perkins family history. Ian becomes consumed with his research and is determined to uncover the truth before it’s too late.

M Jonathan Lee deals sensitively with issues of grief and depression in this intriguing, intelligently written novel which ends with a heart-stopping twist!  Read on for an extract...

Broken Branches by M Jonathan Lee is out now (£8.99, Hideaway Fall)

It was their first holiday alone after Harry was born. After nine months of pregnancy and another year and a half of nappy changing and sleep deprivation, they had finally managed to escape for a long weekend in Portugal. It had taken a few tentative telephone calls before Rachel had managed to persuade her mother to take care of Harry. As soon as she had agreed, Rachel wasted no time finding a hotel and cheap flights online. Within three weeks they were on their way. Ian remembered the feeling as they reached the airport that morning. It was as if life had just begun all over again.

They spent the most part of their long weekend away on the beach, enjoying the freedom to do absolutely nothing. For three days they lay in the baking sun, their hands rarely apart, from just after breakfast to when the man arrived to stack up the sunbeds they’d hired. Everything suddenly felt new and somehow real again.

The tattoo had been a culmination of childlike excitement and a little too much sangria. After a late breakfast on the penultimate morning, Rachel watered the seed she had planted the night before over dinner, that she may like a tattoo.

“That one looks good, Ian,” she said, sitting up on her sunbed and pointing at a painfully slim woman at the ocean’s edge.

Ian sat up and lifted his sunglasses.

“Over there, in the black bikini bottoms.” Rachel pointed.

“The black tattoo? On her shoulder?”

“Yep. I like it.”

“Are you serious? It’s a bit…”

“Big? Yeah, you might be right actually,” she said, laughing. She looked around the beach. It was beginning to fill up. She smiled at Ian, a cheeky smile, and rested her hand on his inner thigh.

“You wouldn’t really get one, would you?” Ian said. He recalled her mother had made it clear that she disapproved of the sudden explosion of tattoos on celebrities and footballers worldwide.

“Y’know what? I think I would. I mean, why not?”

“Er…” Ian dragged out the word on purpose.

“My mother? Who cares?” Rachel laughed. “We are in our thirties, after all.” Her bravery deserted her for a moment. “Well, she wouldn’t need to know.”

The conversation continued for the remainder of the day. They spent the afternoon kissing, sleeping and swimming in the sea, but predominantly on the alert for a design that might be the one for Rachel. Ian took great pleasure in waking Rachel to point out the most inappropriate of tattoos. She made it quite clear she didn’t want a unicorn, nor the Glasgow Rangers badge.

As the sun became a semi-circle, Rachel shook their towels and began to pack the bags. It was time for them to return to the hotel and prepare for their final evening together, before Harry would remind them that they were parents. Rachel watched as Ian returned from his second journey to the bin. He couldn’t have carried all the bottles of San Miguel they had enjoyed over the afternoon in one trip. They left the beach and decided that a glass of sangria was necessary to dispense with the dry taste of beer. One glass became a jug, and one jug became two.

Three hours later, Rachel had an ink-black bird on the base of her spine, halfway inside her pants and halfway out. The bird was in open flight and carried a key in its mouth. Ian had a large red star on his lower arm. He wasn’t sure why; it had just seemed like a good idea at the time. They were having such a good time, he didn’t want to spoil it by not joining in. Rachel had told him on several occasions that she wouldn’t be brave enough to get one if he didn’t.

And so he did.

For her.