I am excited to let you all know that the 18th book in The Greek Village Series will be launched on 9th July 2016.

A Stranger in the Village is now available for pre-order here http://snig.gr/m and to celebrate I am letting you all have a sneak preview of the opening chapter of the story.

Chapter 1

The corner shop in the Greek village

Those present –

Marina, the village shop owner

Stella, who runs the hotel and local eatery

Juliet, an English woman who moved to the village

Frona, an older woman of the village who has lived in both Australia and America

Vasso, who runs the kiosk in the village square

Marina holds court in her corner shop. Stella, Frona and Juliet have all found somewhere to sit.


‘It’s like buying a pig in a sack. We don’t know what we get till we open the sack.’ Marina laughs.

‘I got lucky with my “pig”,’ Frona says, her shapeless black cardigan quivering as she giggles.

‘Thank God I got lucky second time around!’ Stella says, crossing herself three times and kissing her thumbnail as she shifts her slight frame, tucking one leg under her on the wooden chair. She is hemmed in by barrels of rice, lentils, pasta and dried beans, and by the komboloi hanging from a nail on the edge of a shelf, by her head.

‘Ah, but he wasn’t in a sack then, was he, your second pig?’ Marina’s face is red with laughing. ‘He was out in the daylight. You could see all of what you were getting!’ She dabs at the corners of her eyes with a tissue from up her sleeve.

‘My piglet was running around for all to see, so cute then, but I didn’t know he was going to grow to be a boar,’ Juliet says, but the joke does not translate well – it would have sounded so much better in her mother tongue.

But Marina, Stella and Frona howl with laughter anyway, the sound muffled only by the plethoric jumble of goods and produce that lines the walls of Marina’s shop. Fly swats, shepherds’ crooks, balls in plastic string bags and a variety of other items hang from the ceiling. The shelves on the three back walls sag with the weight of jars of honey, tins of dolmades, packets of tights, bottles of chlorine, and countless other things. The counter extends from under the window at the front of the shop, at right angles to anyone coming in through the door, its top overflowing with sweets, cigarette lighters, kolourakia, packets of nuts in colourful wrappers and a shiny set of scales at one end. The door, which is permanently open, leads out to the village square. On the pavement outside there is just enough space for a couple of drinks cabinets and a wire rack of locally grown produce.

At this time of year the sun does not have the intensity it will later in the year, but it is warm enough to lure Juliet out daily. She will step out for something as simple as a bottle of milk and then linger for hours simply because the sun makes everything delightful and the world has transformed from the grey of winter into a wonderful place promising the excitement of summer.

This morning she loitered to admire the yellow flowers blooming along the roadside, and the almond and cherry blossom creating splashes of white and pink in the gardens, announcing the arrival of spring. The whitewashed walls and houses reflected the bright blossoms that are appearing in their gardens. The sudden warmth makes everything happen more slowly: the household chores, the shopping for the evening meal, even the conversations. There is no rushing to get out of the cold, there are no clipped exchanges to limit the minutes spent with frozen fingers away from the fire. Instead she has the luxury of being able to take her time. She has been in the corner shop half an hour already and she only came in for one item. Her chair is beside a barrel of rice. Stella is behind her, near the back shelf, which is loaded with cleaning products.

‘And what are you girls gossiping about?’ Vasso stoops slightly, protective of her lacquered hair, as she steps in through the door, eager to join her friends. The shop is almost in darkness for a moment as she fills the door frame.

‘Pigs in sacks.’ Frona giggles, her eyes bright in the gloom. Her soft old skin pleats all the way up her cheeks as she smiles.

Vasso frowns slightly and looks at Frona. She is sitting under the television, which is permanently on with the sound turned down, and she is separated from Juliet and Stella by a set of low shelves piled high with bars of chocolate and packets of biscuits and crisps, set centrally down the length of the shop.

Marina pulls out empty wrappers from the box of sweets she keeps on the counter for children sent to buy things for their parents.

‘Husbands,’ she clarifies, not even looking up.

Enjoyed this preview? Pre-order the book on Amazon >>

Happy reading!
Sara