webnovel

Fiona Fleming Cozy Mysteries

I’m an international, multiple award-winning author with a passion for the voices in my head. As a singer, songwriter, independent filmmaker and improv teacher and performer, my life has always been about creating and sharing what I create with others. Now that my dream to write for a living is a reality, with over a hundred titles in happy publication and no end in sight, I live in beautiful Prince Edward Island, Canada, with my giant cats, pug overlord and overlady and my Gypsy Vanner gelding, Fynn. A Poo Poo Kind of Morning I tried not to look down the mouth of hell staring back at me from inside the glaringly pristine outer ceramic shell of the white throne, my throat catching, stomach doing half flips and a rather impressive rollover routine that would have gotten at least a 9.5 even from the Russian judges. Instead, I forced myself to smile and swallow and remind myself the elbow length yellow rubber gloves grasping the handle of the standard issue plunger were all that stood between me and Pooageddon. Suck it up, Fee. Big girl panties and adulting and all that. “At what point,” I waved the dripping plunger, wincing as droplets of yuck flew, “did I think owning a bed and breakfast was going to be glamorous and romantic?” Fiona Fleming is in so much trouble. Her recently inherited bed and breakfast might not actually be hers thanks to the underhanded misdealings of the local real estate bully. Despite her grandmother's last will and testament, Fee might me out of luck and on the street before she even gets settled. But when her new enemy floats belly up in her koi pond, she's the prime suspect in his murder! Can she uncover who the real killer is before the smoking hot new sheriff puts her behind bars instead of asking her out on a date? Dive into book one of the Fiona Fleming Cozy Mysteries, and don't miss the exciting sequels!

Patti Larsen · Realistic
Not enough ratings
492 Chs

Chapter 141: Fanboy

I admit I screamed, too, a combined reaction, part nervousness for my illegal break and enter and part expenditure of extra energy I'd been feeding with my angst the last few hours. Alice grabbed for me and I grabbed right back and the pair of us shrieked like co-eds in a bad horror movie as the stationary image of my Grandmother Iris glared at us in all her glowing, rigid glory.

Footsteps pounded overhead, someone racing down the stairs. I barely had time to shut off my panicked reaction when the light flared into life and the ghostly image disappeared. Denver stared at both of us with huge eyes, mouth gaping open and we stared in frozen dread right back.

I was expecting him to call Crew, to shout at us to get out, to do something along the lines that a normal person would do if he found two strangers snooping around his living room.

Instead, Denver's eyes locked on Alice and he actually smiled in dazed surprise.