And No One Knew
a mystery novel of sorts
Release Date: Spring 2026
Synopsis
Gertrude, a crotchety Manhattanite, was born with an hemangioma covering her left cheek that impacted her life. Convinced by her parents that she would be mocked and bullied, she grew up afraid of people, alone and unfriendly. Now elderly, when her neighbor Bette invites her to a dinner party, she uncharacteristically accepts. Bette dies at the dinner table. At her funeral, eulogies about a life filled with loving relationships catapults Gertrude into a depression. She retreats to bed, then falls and can’t get up. Venera, Bette’s night aide, hears her call for help and rescues her. An unlikely friendship develops. Venera encourages Gertrude to travel to the UK but Gertrude needs a passport. In the process of finding the necessary documentation, she accidentally stumbles upon a secret that totally upends her sense of identity and catapults her on a journey of discovery.
Praise
"Jennifer Manocherian, author of Alpha Bette, has done it again! And No One Knew is a masterfully drawn story of one woman's journey of discovery. An unlikely heroine, Gertrude is seeking to find Jane Austen and instead finds herself through a winding arc. In true Manocherian style, the story is beautifully told, with empathy and compassion for flawed and vulnerable characters. Bravo!"
— Lis Wiehl, New York Times bestselling author
"Brava to Gertrude, a fresh rendition of that new type of heroine making her way through contemporary literature today: the smart, sassy woman of a certain age who longs for connection in a world that seems to have moved on. Jennifer Manocherian’s And No One Knew is a moving and delightful story of a woman who refuses to accept isolation even as society appears determined to saddle her with that inevitability. You’ll root for Gertrude as she learns that finding herself is the step that opens the doors she thought were closed for good. Perfect for fans of Sipsworth, Remarkably Bright Creatures, and The Correspondent."
—Barbara Josselsohn, Author of The Secret Orphanage
"With deft humor and surprises at every turn, And No One Knew is about secrets hidden in plain sight. Jennifer Manocherian’s novel kept me riveted, cheering on cranky and endearing Gertrude who’s on an avid mission to learn about herself and those she thinks she’s supposed to love."
—Jimin Han, Author of The Apology and Dreamt I Found You
"And No One Knew is going to break your heart then carefully, beautifully, heal it for you. Gertrude Siden stricker, 69-years-old, likes to order t-shirts from Amazon with saying son them like, ‘I'm not really antisocial. I probably just don't like you.’ But she only wears them as pajama tops, never out in the world. Mostly because her parents raised her to believe that the large hemangioma covering her face would make her a target, and the world was cruel and harsh. To protect her, they crafted a life that was small and solitary and hidden. But inside Gertrude’s head there’s always a lot going on. Wry observations, sharp humor, literary references, a running commentary on people and the world and herself that will make you laugh even as your heart aches for her. She’s whip-smart and self-aware, and even though life has dealt her some devastating blows, she never wallows. She endures. She persists. She’s funny about it. Gertrude’s story is a journey inward to discover who she really is, to find her place in the world, to decide for herself how to live the time she has left. It’s about resilience and courage, and the transformative power of truth. It’s about what it means to finally be seen—and more radically, to allow ourselves to be seen. And it’s about being brave. Brave enough to rewrite your own story, even in life’s final chapters. Manocherian has created something very special here: a novel that’s both heartbreaking and hopeful, funny and profound, intimate and sweeping."
—Alexandra Soiseth, Author of Choosing You: Deciding to Have a Baby on My Own
"And No One Knew is not only a fabulous standalone read, but for fans of Manocherian’s previous novel Alpha Bette, it's a huge gift. We get to spend more time with one of my favorite characters of all time: seventy-year-old ManhattaniteGertrude. Gertrude is crotchety, complaining—I'll say it—a BITCH. And I love her! Manocherian proves once again that a character doesn't need to be someone we'd want to meet for coffee; they just need to be complex and compelling, with a heart-and-gut-wrenching story that keeps us turning the pages. Brava!"
—Patricia (T.M.) Dunn, Award Winning Author of Her Father’s Daughter and Last Stop on the 6
"When Gertrude discovers a cache of documents her late parents had carefully hidden, it sends her on a quest to uncover the truth. Jennifer Manocherian’s signature irreverent wit animates a quirky cast of characters. It’s impossible to stop turning the pages as Gertrude’s sleuthing propels an eccentric story that upends traditional ideas about family and identity, all wrapped up in an adventure of late-life self-discovery."
—Roberta Baskin Award Winning investigative journalist and non-profit leader
"And No One Knew is filled with sweet mysteries for readers to learn about stoic, aloof, Gertrude, whose alienation mirrors feelings we all share. Searching could well be her middle name as she sets off in many directions determined tofind her own place of belonging. With settings that weave from NYC to Cape Cod, and literary friends like Jane Austen to accompany her, what Gertrude discovers after her circuitous journey will endear her as our friend for years to come.
—Marcia Bradley, Author of The Home for Wayward Girls
Excerpt
Once everyone was seated, the priest began with a prayer: “Almighty, ever-loving God, we rejoice in your promise of love, joy and peace. In your mercy, turn the darkness of death into the dawn of a new life, and the sorrow of parting into the joy of heaven.”
As he droned on, Gertrude couldn’t help but wonder if his words brought comfort to Mrs. Gartner’s family. They made Gertrude angry. If there is such a thing as a God, he/she/it sure as hell doesn’t love most people on earth who suffer until they mercifully die. Does God love the starving children in Africa? Does God love people living in war zones? Does God love people born disfigured or with other disabilities, such as hemangiomas?
When the prayer ended, the priest declared that they were all there to celebrate the life of Bette Gartner. He began reading. “Do Not Stand At My Grave and Weep. I am not there. I do not sleep.” More gobbledygook.
Gertrude forced herself to look at the casket. The top was covered with floral wreaths, so unless Mrs. Gartner’s body lay beneath them smothered with flowers, it was closed. Several of the wreaths contained Stargazer Lilies. Just looking at them made Gertrude want to sneeze. All she could think was, I hope Mrs. Gartner wasn’t allergic.
Next, the priest called Mrs. Gartner’s son-in-law, Jack Haight, to the pulpit to do a reading from Ecclesiastes 3:1-8. As he got up, Gertrude got a view of the family in the first pew, whom she had only recently met: Mrs. Gartner’s daughter Claire, Claire’s granddaughter Jia and her boyfriend. Jia’s head was on her boyfriend’s shoulder, and she appeared to be weeping. Oh my, that is sad.
“There is a time for everything,” Jack read in a solemn voice, “and a season for every activity under the heavens: a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot, a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build, a time to weep and a time to-”
Oh, Jack, such a mundane choice.
Gertrude’s mind wandered to the moment a few days ago when she received an invitation to a party Mrs. Gartner was giving that night, where she was introduced to her family and staff.
The doorbell rang. Looking out the peephole, I saw Mrs. Gartner’s Croatian night aide, Venera. I didn’t open the door. Venera and I had had words twice that day, and for all I knew, Venera wanted to curse me out or hit me. Finally, Venera gave up and left.
After she left, I noticed an envelope on the floor. I opened it and was stunned to find a handwritten invitation from Mrs. Gartner inviting me to a dinner party that evening. It had to be a prank. I wasn’t about to go anyhow, not with my knee on fire, but I had to know if the invitation was real. Why, after all these years, would Mrs. Gartner now include me in one of her parties? It made no sense. Rereading the invitation, I noticed a small arrow at the bottom. Turning it over, I read, “Gertrude dear, it would mean a lot to me if you came. Bette Gartner.’ The note, the elaborate kind of handwriting, the wording and the elegant stationery convinced me that it was for real.
I was mystified. Did Mrs. Gartner know her husband, doddering old George, would occasionally escape the apartment and come visit me for a little whiskey, which she forbade? Would I be chastised for it in front of others? I couldn’t imagine any other reason for the invitation. But that would be mean, and Mrs. Gartner didn’t impress me as the kind of person who would do that. There had to be an agenda, that much was certain.