Pumpkin Pie Parting by Addison Moore


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Pumpkin Pie Parting

Pumpkin Pie Parting by Addison Moore (MURDER IN THE MIX Book 15)
English | 2019 | Mystery/Thriller | ePUB | 315 Kb

Pumpkin Pie Parting : A baker who sees the dead. One too many suitors.
And a killer. Living in Honey Hollow can be murder.
My name is Lottie Lemon, and I see dead people. Okay, so I rarely see dead people, mostly I see furry creatures of the dearly departed variety, aka dead pets, who have come back from the other side to warn me of their previous owner’s impending doom.
The unthinkable has happened and I’m left to reel with a profound level of grief that I haven’t known since my father has died. Throw in a dizzy llama, a snow lodge and a murder, and you’ll have a recipe you never want to share at the Thanksgiving table. One thing is for sure, Noah and I will never be the same again.
Lottie Lemon has a brand new bakery to tend to, a budding romance with perhaps one too many suitors, and she has the supernatural ability to see dead pets—which are always harbingers for ominous things to come. Throw in the occasional ghost of the human variety, a string of murders, and her insatiable thirst for justice, and you’ll have more chaos than you know what to do with.
Living in the small town of Honey Hollow can be murder.

“You’re on life support, Noah. They put you in a medically induced coma hoping you’ll heal quicker that way, but they’ve since tried taking you out if it…” I stop shy of telling him that his brain activity isn’t looking all so great. I don’t think I can bring myself to say the words. My chest bucks as I fight an onslaught of tears.

“I know.” He nods and bites down on his lower lip as if trying to stave off his own emotions. “I hope you don’t mind if I hang out tonight.” He hitches his head toward the Evergreen Manor.

“Are you kidding? Noah, I never want you to leave.”

“Is that Noah?” a deep voice calls out from behind, and I turn in time to see Everett making his way over in a dark, crisp suit. Everett is tall with broad shoulders, black hair, and cerulean blue eyes that make every female in a ten-mile radius sit up and pay attention. He’s slow to smile and serious as one can get without turning to stone. He also happens to be painfully handsome, as is Noah.

“Yes! He’s here!” I say, waving him over, and Everett quickly takes up my hand. A while back Everett and I discovered that others can hear the dead if they hold my hand. I don’t know why, but I seem to act as a sort of a conduit.”

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