About the Book:
It's almost Christmas. Shop owners Daisy Forrest Greene and her sister Rose Forrest are gearing up for the holiday season, but someone is making mischief in Old Towne. Break-ins, vandalism, poison pen letters, a hormonally-exuberant watchdog, what could be next? Murder, of course. Could life get more merry?
My mother got my sisters and me hooked on cozy mysteries when when we were pretty young. We all loved them. So when I started writing I wanted to write a cozy that included a lot of family interactions. I also had a strange menagerie of pets growing up and loved their crazy antics. So I created a small town where two sisters, their nutty mother, and goofy dog could have fun and uncover mysteries. This excerpt is just a little taste of the sort of things that these ladies get up to.
Just as they were looking through the piles of books, there was a commotion on the porch. Malcolm was barking like a dog possessed and a young policeman from the Bostwick force was standing at the bottom of the steps.
Daisy ran out and said, “Malcolm, quiet!” and Malcolm immediately shut up and sat down. Daisy ruffled his head and undid the leash. She looked at the man and said, “Sorry. He’s excitable. Thank God you're here.”
“I’m Officer Willis and I’m checking out a 911 call from this address. Are you the person who called?”
“No, I'm Daisy Greene. My sister and I own a shop around the corner. Hazel Monroe called. She's the owner here and her shop's been broken into. Someone ransacked the place and killed her cat! Please come in.”
Officer Willis and Daisy walked in and found Rose and Hazel sorting books. Rose said, “Hazel’s trying to see if anything is missing.”
Hazel looked at the young man and said, “Hold! I was put on hold! What if someone had still been in here? What then? It could be me, not my little Roscoe, lying in that coat.”
They all turned toward the coat to see Malcolm humping poor little Roscoe. Hazel let out an anguished howl, Rose uttered a stream of words referring to Malcolm's parentage in an unfavorable light, and Daisy was about to grab Malcolm's leash when a flash of orange fur leaped out of the coat and onto the highest shelf in the room. Hazel gasped, then drooped ever so gracefully onto a chair.
“You said he was dead,” hissed Rose to Daisy as she helped Hazel up.
“He looked dead. He was all floppy. What? I'm a vet? Besides I think Malcolm brought him back. He must have the gift,” said Daisy.
“The gift? What gift would that be? Sex maniac gift? Necrophiliac gift? Malcolm's a humper. That is exactly what he is. No wonder they told Mother that he didn't get along with the other animals!”
“Ladies, could someone just tell me what's going on here?” asked Officer Willis.
About the author: