Sealed with a Hiss Addison Moore (large screen ebook reader .txt) đź“–
- Author: Addison Moore
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Sealed with a HissCountry Cottage Mysteries 13
Addison Moore Bellamy Bloom
Contents
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Book Description
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Recipe
Books by Addison Moore
Acknowledgments
About the Authors
Copyright © 2021 by Addison Moore, Bellamy Bloom
Edited by Paige Maroney Smith
Cover by Lou Harper, Cover Affairs
This novel is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to peoples either living or deceased is purely coincidental. Names, places, and characters are figments of the author’s imagination. The author holds all rights to this work. It is illegal to reproduce this novel without written expressed consent from the author herself.
All Rights Reserved.
This eBook is for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this eBook with another person, please purchase any additional copies for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Copyright © 2021 by Addison Moore, Bellamy Bloom
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Book Description
The Country Cottage Inn is known for its hospitality. Leaving can be murder.
My name is Bizzy Baker, and I can read minds. Not every mind, not every time, but most of the time, and believe me when I say, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.
It’s February, Valentine’s Day is just around the corner, and a couple of popular podcasters have descended on the inn with their rabid listeners in tow. The Perfect Pairing hosts decide to throw a funeral for every bad relationship their loyal fans have had, and things take a turn for the deadly before the casket can close for the night. A double homicide seems to have played out on the grounds of the Country Cottage Inn, and it’s up to Bizzy to solve the case before the very next funeral belongs to her.
Bizzy Baker runs the Country Cottage Inn, has the ability to pry into the darkest recesses of both the human and animal mind, and has just stumbled upon a body. With the help of her kitten, Fish, a mutt named Sherlock Bones, and an ornery yet dangerously good-looking homicide detective, Bizzy is determined to find the killer.
Cider Cove, Maine is the premier destination for fun and relaxation. But when a body turns up, it’s the premier destination for murder.
Chapter 1
Two hours from now…
Chip
The moon hangs low overhead. It’s dark at this end of the street—icy cold, with snow in the forecast.
“You know, if my wife ever catches us, she’s going to kill me,” I tease as my hands run up and down her back. My eyes squeeze tight a moment because, as it happens, that was nothing but a little gallows humor to get me through the next few minutes.
As it turns out, my wife isn’t going to kill me.
I’m going to kill her.
A laugh gurgles from the woman in my arms. “That’s exactly why we’re taking her out first. We’ll finally be rid of her. We’re going to be free. You’re not chickening out on me, are you?”
“No.” A heavy sigh expels from my chest because maybe I am. “How is this supposed to work again?”
“She said she’ll be out in ten minutes for a breath of fresh air. You’ll shoot her, then I’ll hit you over the head with the gun and head back into the conference. You tell the cops you were attacked by an armed man who took off for the woods. It will all go off as planned, I promise.”
“It had better.”
The present…
Bizzy
“What better way to start a month that revolves around love than a funeral?” The toothy blonde tosses her head back and laughs like the madwoman I’m pinning her to be.
“Go on, Bizzy”—my sister, Macy, jabs me in the ribs—“it’s your turn to throw some hate mail into the coffin.”
I clutch my sweet little cat, Fish, as we stare down at the shimmering pink casket that lies open, right here in the ballroom of the Country Cottage Inn. The coffin in question is brimming with hot pink envelopes, all addressed to some former heartbreak these poor women have endured.
The ballroom is filled to capacity with women tonight, most of them clothed in little black dresses with matching veils covering their faces.
The people throwing the morbid event are selling the veils at the door for five bucks a piece, and the entire display feels like more of a circus than a funeral.
Fish yowls, Bizzy, these women are ridiculous. The next time one of them bows her head into that grisly box, I say we hit them over the head with the lid. Maybe that will knock some sense into them.
I give a covert nod to my little cat because I happen to think she’s onto something.
Great. The blonde in charge squints over at me suspiciously. It looks as if I’ve got a Negative Nelly on my hands. I’ll have to keep this one under control. It’s jerks like this that have the potential to kill my brand with one sour expression.
I openly scoff at the woman.
Did she just call me a jerk?
And good luck trying to control me. I can hardly control myself most days.
The look-alike blonde next to her nods as she pins her eyes to mine. She’s a contagion, all right, she adds as if she heard her friend’s internal musings. Sorry, sweetie, you have three seconds to
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