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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 · Realistis
Peringkat tidak cukup
492 Chs

Chapter 353: Conspiring

I didn't even wait for the door to close behind me before pressing the paper bag into Crew's big hands. He looked startled by my insistence but didn't argue, turning for the kitchen while I pushed against his broad back with both hands, bouncing as I went, giggling over the expression on his face when he spun back to meet my eyes.

His grin made me sigh, washing away the remains of the encounter with Oliver, with Jack Nethersole, with all of the complaining, needy people I'd dealt with today, yesterday, every day since taking over Petunia's. He just had that effect on me, bless him.

"And here I thought you were excited to see me," he said, winking, that rumbling voice of his making me shiver as I leaned in and kissed his stubbled cheek. He hadn't changed out of his uniform shirt yet, the wash-softened cotton thick under my hands, the scent of him so dear, so familiar I inhaled a deep breath of him before kissing him again, this time on those smiling lips.