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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 · Realista
Classificações insuficientes
492 Chs

Chapter 94: Mila

Breath whooshed from my lungs as I carried the other person to the ground, the soft and slightly squishy body oofing a gust of air out while I landed on top of the woman. Petunia arrived a moment later, huffing and puffing, throwing herself into the mix as she pounced on my prisoner.

I panted when I flipped her over and looked down into the scared face of the young woman from earlier today, the same one who escaped me around the corner of the house. There was no escape for her this time. I grabbed my phone from my back pocket and dialed Crew as the woman squirmed but didn't try to get up.

"Fee." His clipped response at the third ring told me he was irritated. Well, poor baby. "I'm in the middle of an-"

"I caught an intruder in the backyard," I snapped back. "Mind sending a real cop to finish the job I started?"

He swore softly and hung up. At me or at the situation I was in? Honestly, I couldn't care less which. So. Over. It.