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I dreamed of Manderley again. One of my favorite lines in literature from the classic, Rebecca, and a part of The Greenleaf Murders. If you love the idea of restoring old houses, and I mean old, then today we have an excellent mystery for you by R.J. Koreto! Best of all, the house that will be restored was a part of the Gilded Age. I love historic home tours, so add a little mystery and this is my idea of a perfect afternoon!
Synopsis:
Young architect Wren Fontaine lands her dream job: restoring Greenleaf House, New York’s finest Gilded-Age mansion, to its glory days. But old homes have old secrets: Stephen Greenleafâheir to whatâs left of his familyâs legacyârefuses to reveal what his plans are once the renovation is completed. And still living in a corner of the home is Stephen’s 90-year-old Aunt Agnes who’s lost in the past, brooding over a long-forgotten scandal while watching Wren with mistrust.
Wren’s job becomes more complex when a shady developer who was trying to acquire Greenleaf House is found murdered. And after breaking into a sealed attic, Wren finds a skeleton stuffed in a trunk. She soon realizes the two deaths, a century apart, are strangely related. Meanwhile, a distraction of a different kind appears in the form of her client’s niece, the beautiful and seductive Hadley Vanderwerf. As Wren gingerly approaches a romance, she finds that Hadley has her own secrets.
Then a third murder occurs, and the introverted architect is forced to think about people, and about how ill-fated love affairs and obsessions continue to haunt the Greenleafs. In the end, Wren risks her own life to uncover a pair of murderers, separated by a century but connected by motive. She reveals an odd twist in the family tree that forever changes the lives of the Greenleafs, the people who served them, the mansion they all called homeâand even Wren herself.
Praise for The Greenleaf Murders:
“A delightful who-done-it in which the house is as engaging as the wonderful heroine. Readers will want to get lost in these rooms and these pages.”
Cate Holahan, USA Today bestselling author of Her Three Lives
“If you love houses and puzzles – which I do – you will be captivated by THE GREENLEAF MURDERS, the first in Richard Koreto’s new series. Equally sure-footed in the gilded age of the mansion’s heyday and the contemporary world of its decline, Koreto has woven a pretzel of a plot, introduced a charming new heroine, and whetted appetites for more grave deeds and grandeur.”
Catriona McPherson, multi-award-winning author of the Dandy Gilver series
“The Greenleaf Murders mixes a modern suspense mystery with the love of old-world mansions and iconic High Society. Buried secrets threaten a family clinging to their former glory as two murders surface, a century apart. Koreto weaves a story that creates the perfect tension between the beauty of the golden era and the fear of a killer in plain sight.”
L.A. Chandlar, national best selling author of the Art Deco Mystery Series
“One would think that a murder mystery featuring old homes, architecture, and rich blue bloods would be a dull read, but thatâs not the case with R.J. Koretoâs finely-written âThe Greenleaf Murders.â Filled with twists and turns and sharply-drawn characters, this well-done novel is very much recommended.”
Brendan DuBois, award-wining and New York Times bestselling author
Book Details:
Genre: Cozy Mystery
Published by: Level Best Books
Publication Date: November 2022
Number of Pages: 264
ISBN: 9781685122089
Series: Historic Homes Mysteries, #1
Book Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | Level Best Books
Read an excerpt:
Last night, Wren had dreamt she went to Manderley again.
When she was fifteen, her mother had given her a copy of Rebecca, saying it was one of her favorites. A voracious reader, Wren finished it in a few days, but her reaction was not what her mother had hoped for.
âRebecca was horrible, but Maxim was no prize either. And the second Mrs. De Winterâkind of wimpy.â
âYou didnât like anyone in that book?â asked her exasperated mother.
âI liked Mrs. Danvers. I know she was insane, but she really appreciated the house. If people had been nicer to her, maybe she wouldnât have burned it down. The best part of the book was Manderley. Iâd have liked to live there, in splendid isolation, and Mrs. Danvers would take care of things. She was the only one in the book who knew how to do something.â
Her mother just stared. What teenaged girl talked about living by herself in an ivy-covered British mansion? She kissed her daughter on her forehead. âWren, you really are an old soul.â
But although Manderley was her first love, Wren proved fickle, and also fell in love with Holyrood House, Blenheim Palace, and Versailles.
A succession of guidance counselors worried about Wren, although she gradually learned to make friends, and even go on dates. However, nothing could replace her love for houses, and it was a foregone conclusion by college that she would become an architect like her father and spend as much time as possible working with houses and not people. And not just any houses, but the kind no one had lived in for a long time.
As Wren approached 30, her father made her a junior partner and told her if he could close the deal with Stephen Greenleaf, heâd let her take full responsibility for Greenleaf House. Once the proposal they had worked on so hard had been completed, Wren couldnât think about anything beyond spending her days in that Gilded Age gem, one of the largest private residences ever built in New York City. Over the years, like the second Mrs. De Winter, she dreamed of Manderley, never more than when she was hoping for the Greenleaf job.
She came home late one evening after visiting a job site and found her father in the study of the home they still shared. Living at home had become a temporary convenience while she was at graduate school, which turned into a habit, as they liked each otherâs company. Not that either would admit it.
She watched him sketch. Although the firm had an office in midtown Manhattan, her father preferred to work in the study of their Brooklyn townhouse. For normal work, she knew it was safe to interrupt him, but not while he did the sketchesâhis avocation, his passion, just him and his pencils, creating columns and cornices, chair railings, and gargoyles. The only light poured from the desk lamp, illuminating the fine paper and her fatherâs high-domed forehead. She wanted to know if he had heard anythingâbut had to wait patiently.
Eventually, the scratching stopped, and he put his pencil down.
âIf you havenât eaten yet, Ada left her spaghetti and meat sauce in the refrigerator. Sheâs a fine housekeeper, but that particular dish is a little common.â
âOnly you would describe a dish of pasta as âcommon.ââ
âYou know what I mean. And if you donât understand the context, you shouldnât be an architect.â
âFine. But I think itâs delicious.â
âYes,â he said, with a touch of impatience. âI didnât say it wasnât delicious. I said it was common.â He swiveled in his chair and smiled. âBut youâre really here to ask if Iâve heard from Greenleaf? I told him today that we couldnât put aside our other projects indefinitely. And that Bobby Fiore was the only contractor we could trust, and we couldnât ask him to postpone other jobs, so with a few arguments about the price, he agreed.â
Wren laughed, did a little dance, and punched the air. Then she ran and hugged her father, which he tolerated. âI knew youâd convince him. You are the most wonderful father.â
âWren. Take a seat.â He said it in his even, measured tone, the one he used for serious discussions. Wren wiped the smile from her face, pulled up a chair, and tucked a rebellious lock of hair behind her ear. In the half-dark room, he took her hands in his.
âI have no doubt that you have the technical skills for this job. My concern is the personal skills. These are the Greenleafs. They were a force in this city when it was still New Amsterdam. We see their house merely as an architectural jewel. The family sees it as a symbol of how tightly they are tied to the history of this city. They are different from other people.â
âPeople are people,â she said.
âFirst of all, no. People are different. And even if you were right, people are not your strong suit.â
âIâve worked well with our clients,â she said defensively.
âYou referred to one of our clients as âa pompous bourgeois vulgarian.ââ
Wren rolled her eyes. âLetâs not go there again. I didnât say it to his face, just to you.â
âDo you think you hid your feelings?â
âYouâve said worse,â she countered. Then realized she had lost the argument when his eyes went up to the framed certificate on the wallâthe Pritzker Prize, often called the Nobel Prize of architecture. Iâve earned my right to arrogance. You have a long way to go.
âJust remember that these people pay our bills. I know we often work to protect them from their own worse instincts, but letâs try to be a little more politic. Your mother used to say you lived in your own special world. But you have to join the rest of humanity every now and then. And that brings me back to Greenleaf House. This is the very important symbol of what was once one of the most important families in this city. Keep that in mind when dealing with Stephen Greenleaf.â
âWeâve already had several meetings, donât forget. He didnât seem that unusual to meâruns his own asset management firm. Iâve dealt with Wall Street types before. It wonât be a problem.â
âWren.â Again, heavy on her nameâall her life, this had been the sign of a serious conversation. âThe Greenleafs made their money before there was a Wall Street. People like this are unusually touchy about their families and histories. Now that youâre actually starting, his behavior may change. There could be some emotional repercussions. To make this a success, you will have to watch out for those feelings and manage them.â
âAnd youâre about to sayâagainâthat I understand houses but not people.â
âLetâs just say itâs more of an effort for you. You can work with people. You just donât like to. But I made you a partner. So you canât just do the fun parts of your job. You have to do it all.â
âYes, father,â she said. He was serious, so there could be no more pushback from her. No verbal fencing. He wanted her to live up to his expectations.
âIt isnât your father whoâs asking you, Wren. Itâs the senior partner of this firm, Ms. Fontaine.â
She nodded. âI understand, Ezra.â
And then he lightened his face with a smile. âBut before we move on to the particulars, there is one more piece of advice, this time from your father. It may be hard to remember in any residence we work on, but especially in one with more than 70 rooms, it is not just a house. Itâs someoneâs home. It was Mr. Greenleafâs childhood home, in fact, and his aunt has lived there her entire life. Youâre not very sentimental Wrenâand thatâs fine. Neither am I. But please remember thatâitâs not just a building. Itâs a home.â
***
Excerpt from The Greenleaf Murders by R.J. Koreto. Copyright 2022 by R.J. Koreto. Reproduced with permission from R.J. Koreto. All rights reserved.
Author Bio:

R.J. Koreto is the author of the Historic Home mystery series, set in modern New York City; the Lady Frances Ffolkes mystery series, set in Edwardian England; and the Alice Roosevelt mystery series, set in turn-of-the-century New York. His short stories have been published in Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine and Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine, as well as various anthologies.
In his day job, he works as a business and financial journalist. Over the years, heâs been a magazine writer and editor, website manager, PR consultant, book author, and seaman in the U.S. Merchant Marine. Like his heroine, Lady Frances Ffolkes, heâs a graduate of Vassar College.
With his wife and daughters, he divides his time between Rockland County, N.Y., and Marthaâs Vineyard, Mass.