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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 159: Protecting Petunias

The house felt quiet, anticipating guests who were a week away. Funny, it felt almost like a living, breathing thing when it was full of visitors and a sleeping giant when no one filled the rooms upstairs. But I never felt uncomfortable here when I was alone. I guess that was as good a sign as I was getting I'd fallen in love with my life.

I went downstairs to my apartment, Petunia huffing her waddling way in front of me. Two pounds lost or not, she had a way to go yet, but I was hopeful I had her on track. I loved her fat little butt and wanted to keep her around as long as possible.

As I passed the bottom of the landing, I remembered the lock on my door wasn't working as well as I'd like, sticking on occasion. My mind turned over the possibility of having Jared's crew do some small jobs around this place, too, in prep for the busy spring season, a list growing in my head.