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Chocolate Chip Cookie ConundrumMURDER IN THE MIX 32Addison Moore

Contents

Connect with Addison Moore

Book Description

1. Everett

Lottie

2. Lottie

3. Lottie

4. Lottie

5. Noah

6. Lottie

7. Lottie

8. Everett

9. Lottie

10. Noah

11. Lottie

12. Everett

13. Lottie

14. Lottie

15. Lottie

16. Lottie

17. Noah

18. Everett

19. Lottie

20. Lottie

21. Everett

22. Noah

23. Lottie

Recipe

Books by Addison Moore

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Copyright © 2021 by Addison Moore

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

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Book Description

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 baby is here and all is revealed regarding its paternity—and a killer is taunting me to reveal them, too. And have I mentioned there’s a woman who looks all too familiar stalking me? Throw in a couple of mob bosses, my own paternity debate, and a plethora of professional hits for hire and you’ve got one too many ingredients for my sanity to deal with. And let’s not forget that body. I might be whipping up my famous chocolate chip cookies for the entire town to enjoy, but unbeknownst to me—there’s murder in the mix.

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 the dead—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.

Everett

I just made a deal with the devil.

Manny Moretti? Really? That’s how low I had to stoop?

The halls of Honey Hollow General Hospital hum at this early morning hour, just a little after four in the morning, but it might as well be high noon with the adrenaline coursing through my veins.

Lemon asked for a snack, so I ran down and drained the vending machines of all their offerings—right after I sold my soul to Manny Moretti.

I try to push it out of my mind for now. It’s an ungodly hour, and Lemon just had the baby. That’s where my focus needs to be. She needs rest. With me in the room, Lemon can finally get some sleep while I watch over the baby—my baby. Even though the jury is still out on that one, either way, that sweet little girl is mine.

But the fact I was forced to fork over some cold, hard cash to a mobster in the parking lot just now? That’s all Noah’s doing. If he hadn’t talked Lemon into moving that body from the morgue—

A heavy sigh comes from me.

Fine.

Noah may have gotten the ball rolling, but I was free to remove myself from the situation at any given point. But I couldn’t. Because Lemon wouldn’t. And I’d move the planet right out of the solar system if she wanted me to do it.

That night—because Noah damn well instructed Lemon to go ahead with the corpse heist—we found ourselves in a morgue stealing Florenza Canelli’s body.

Of course, you could argue that technically Florenza herself was to blame. She did come back from the other side and pitched a fit about the potential color of her casket, threatened to have my judicial career yanked from underneath me, pin me for a money-laundering scheme that involved Lemon’s bakery, and keep Noah and the rest of the Ashford County Sheriff’s Department in the dark about an upcoming mob war. So I get it.

Noah wanted to do the right thing and stop the bloodbath that was about to ensue. And Lemon told Flo we’d comply. But regardless, that mob bloodbath happened, and it almost took out Noah in the process. The bakery came out unscathed, but I sure as heck had my judicial seat yanked from underneath me. And now I’m walking into another trial—not as the judge, but as the defendant—all because I happened to stare right into a hidden camera that night at the morgue.

Let’s hope that little sleepwalking defense Noah dreamed up actually works. If not, my days with Lemon, along with both of my daughters, are numbered.

From my chambers to a prison cell. My, how the mighty have fallen.

I make the final turn down the corridor and freeze at the sight before me.

Lemon stands outside of her room, one hand pressed against the door as if she were shutting it while trying to be discreet. She’s fully dressed in a wool coat, jeans peering out from underneath, and I inch my head back as I try to make sense of it all.

Did Noah come back with those clothes?

Is she

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