The Grim Reader by Kate Carlisle

The Grim Reader

The Grim Reader by Kate Carlisle (Bibliophile Mystery #14)
English | 2020 | Mystery & Thriller | ePUB |2.9 MB

Kate Carlisle is the author of the Bibliophile Mysteries, featuring rare book expert Brooklyn Wainwright, whose bookbinding and restoration skills invariably uncover old secrets, treachery and murder.

Kate grew up in a big family near the beach in Southern California. She spent over twenty years working in television production as an Associate Director for game and variety shows. She also studied acting and singing. Kate spends most of her time writing near the beach in Southern California where she lives with her perfect hero husband.

Brooklyn and her new hunky husband, Derek, are excited to be guests at Dharma’s first annual Book Festival. The entire town is involved and Brooklyn’s mom Rebecca is taking charge. In addition to all of her other event related duties, she’s got Brooklyn doing rare book appraisals and is also staging Little Women, the musical to delight the festival goers. If that wasn’t enough, she and Meg—Derek’s mom—will have a booth where they read palms and tarot cards.

Brooklyn couldn’t be prouder of her mom’s do-it-all attitude so when a greedy local businessman who seems intent on destroying Dharma starts harassing Rebecca, Brooklyn is ready to take him down. Rebecca is able to hold her own with the nasty jerk until one of her fellow festival committee members is brutally murdered and the money for the festival seems to have vanished into thin air.

Things get even more personal when one of Brooklyn’s nearest and dearest is nearly run down in cold blood. Brooklyn and Derek go into attack mode and the pressure is on to catch a spineless killer before they find themselves skipping the festival for a funeral.

“It’s good to be back in Dharma,” Derek said, breathing in the crisp fall air.

We stood on the balcony outside the master bedroom of the home we’d be living in for the next two weeks and took in the gorgeous scenery. I felt all of my stress dissipate as I gazed out at the green terraced hills. As far as the eye could see, thousands of sturdy grapevines grew tall and lush, their leaves turning golden brown in the autumn sun. Even from this far away, I could see the clusters of ripe fruit more than ready for the coming harvest.

“This view never gets old,” I said with a happy sigh, smiling up at him.

Derek pulled me close and kissed my temple. “Beautiful.”

“It’s been way too long since we were here.” I rested my head on my husband’s shoulder. Actually, it had only been a few months, I realized with some amazement. But so much had happened in that time, it seemed longer. First I had attended a national librarians’ convention and faced down a deadly librarian or two. Then Derek and I had gotten married and we’d flown off to honeymoon in Paris. It had been an incredibly romantic time. And then we had come home to find dangerous goons with guns, a vicious assassin, and more than one victim of cold-blooded murder.

Sudden shivers skittered across my shoulders at the memory. You would think I’d be used to finding dead bodies by now. But no, it shocked me to my very core every time.

With determination, I shook off the chills. We were in Dharma now. We could relax and enjoy our families and friends. This coming weekend was Dharma’s first annual Book Festival and the following week we would stay to help with the grape harvest. I took a few more deep breaths to get rid of the last of those shivers. I didn’t want anything to interfere with my excitement over the upcoming book festival. There would be books everywhere—and no dead bodies!

Yes, it was good to be back in Dharma with Derek. It was good to be back in this place where my family and I had lived since I was eight years old, before there was even a town called Dharma. Back then, there were only Airstream campers and tents and grapevines. I had been very unhappy that our parents had forced us to move from San Francisco out to the boondocks, until I climbed down from the family van and spotted a little dark-haired girl. She defiantly clutched her bald Barbie doll and looked just as pissed off as I felt. That was Robin. We clicked instantly and everything was okay after that.

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