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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 372: Venting

When Crew showed up at my apartment that night for a late dinner and a beer, I wanted to ask him a million questions. Namely, not about the murder investigation and Tyler, but what it was like to fire Robert.

His generally unhappy attitude, not really like him, told me he'd likely been stonewalled, as had his previous comment earlier in the day. I let things go, dying to know but showing amazing restraint if I did say so myself. Whatever was going on for Crew at the moment, I decided instead to be his rock as he had so often been mine, to keep our conversation light, soft and loving.

Trouble was, when you intend to not irritate someone who's already irritated it can backfire. Okay, so it totally backfired to the point that, halfway through dinner, when I casually commented on how I was glad the golf tournament was almost over so Alicia would stop texting me, Crew practically slammed down his beer bottle and glared at me.