Le Mars Bar: It was a lovely party. There was murder.
Boe James
Paperback
(Independently published, April 8, 2018)
Le Mars Bar. Not, as I guess you might have first imagined, a well-known confectionery product to be indulged very occasionally as part of a balanced and properly managed diet, but an actual bar bar. A bar of the living, breathing, sweating, pulsating, watering-hole variety and French to boot. Deep South of France French. Le Mars is the bar-du-choix in Martián-sur-Mer ... one of those jumbled, though pretty and pleasing, snuggled-up fishing villages which are to be found sprinkled along the Mediterranean coast. Locally the town is known simply as Mars and its inhabitants, though really you’d never have guessed, as Martiáns. Well what were you expecting? Life in Mars drifts along as you might suppose. Slow. Mediterranean. Relaxed. Nothing much to see here. Until that Friday lunchtime when the three Englishwomen barrelled into town and into the Le Mars. They were on the hunt for sun, sex and sangria (erm, yeah, sangria) … and plenty of. What they got was not at all what they had been expecting. Blood.