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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 267: Underwater

I grasped for the rail as I hit it, fingers sliding over the slippery wood, my equilibrium already a mess thanks to my dislike of the rocking motion. I caught at the thin metal under railing and hung on, whoofing out a breath as my full body weight impacted the side of the boat. Sneaker rubber squeaked on fiberglass as I fought for purchase, panting and staring up at my assailant who peeked over the edge.

Doreen's curly head looked oddly innocuous, her glasses catching the light. As I drew a breath to scream for help, one of her small, wrinkled hands dropped a long string of decorative lights over me, the end landing with a splash in the water. At the exact moment her foot stepped against my fingers and the pain made me reflexively release my grasp, sending me over into the water.

But not before, in a final desperate grab, I latched onto her ankle and, with my body weight behind my momentum, jerked her into the water after me.