Murder in the Mix Boxed Set 28-30: Cozy Mystery Addison Moore (the reading strategies book .txt) 📖

Lately Carlotta has been snapping up side hustles like gold coins and dropping them like a used pair of underwear.

Last November, she opened a massage service called A Whole Lotta Touchin’ in her minivan. Then in December, she started selling what she called kinky candles. They were just overpriced three-wick balls of wax, if you ask me. But the book is her latest venture. And as long as it keeps her out of trouble, I’m all for it.

I make my way back to the refreshment table, where both Everett and Noah have stern expressions pinned my way.

“Don’t worry, Lot,” Noah says. “We never took our eyes off you. And Carlotta is right. This place is crawling with mobsters tonight. I’ve already called for backup.”

“Lemon”—Everett pulls me in and frowns—“are there any signs of the dead here tonight?”

I scan the vicinity and crane my neck every which way. Typically, I’ll either see the ghost of a cute little furry creature or a full-blown human just before their loved one bites the big one. But I don’t so much as see a supernatural sparkle.

“Not a one,” I say. “And believe me, I’m more than relieved.”

Everett and Noah exchange a quick glance, but they don’t look all that relieved.

Here’s hoping we don’t start the new year off with a bang.

Or with murder.

Chapter 2

The evening wears on as we seem to race our way toward midnight.

I take a break from dancing with both Noah and Everett to rehydrate myself and take my fifteen hundredth trip to the bathroom for the night. The baby is moving and grooving in my belly and tap-dancing right on my bladder, or so it would seem. And now that I’m in my seventh month, I’m no stranger to just about every restroom within a twenty-foot radius.

By the time I get back, both my mother and her boyfriend, Wiley, are having a conversation with Noah and Everett. Mom has creamy vanilla blonde hair and a mischievous look in her sparkling blue eyes. She’s forever young with a face that’s somehow forgotten to age and she’s always dressed sharply. Tonight, she’s in a blue and silver glittering gown that cuts off just above the knee and looks every bit the stunner she is. And Wiley, well, he’s Noah’s look-alike with the same dark hair, green eyes, and dimples. I can see my mother’s appeal, but his checkered past makes me wish she was past him.

“Oh, Lottie.” Mom wrinkles her nose as she looks my way. “I was just about to invite you to a writers’ workshop I’m hosting at the B&B. It’s all about romance, and who better to give advice on the subject than you? But Noah and Everett were just telling me that you might have jury duty this week. How I hope they don’t select you. Show up disheveled or something, would you? Wear your blouse inside out.” She sucks in a quick breath. “Wear your bra outside of your shirt!”

Wiley nods. “Or shout out an obscenity every few seconds. That got me kicked out once. They tried to arrest me, but I told them I had Tourette’s.”

I can’t help but scowl over at him. Wiley Fox was once married to Everett’s mother, Eliza, and bilked her for a good chunk of her bank account. It turns out, he has a habit of bilking widows out of their money before faking his own death. What a winner—or wiener is more like it.

But my mother can’t be deterred by the truth. She’s too mesmerized by his handsome features to care about his wily ways. His new shtick is posing as a perfectly good publishing company, a venture he dreamed up overnight once he got wind of the fact my mother was a budding author. He’s published a couple of romances for her, and he just so happened to take the lion’s share of her earnings, too. I tried to point it out to her, but she insists she doesn’t mind helping him out while his company gets off the ground. My mother is his only client. And her books, well, they’re not doing so hot—even though the books themselves are indeed very steamy. She happens to pen raunchy sizzlers that make grown women blush. But apparently, there aren’t many women in Honey Hollow or in the country interested in blushing to the words my mother has put to paper. Sales are down. And according to her, they can’t get much lower than they are.

Just last month, Wiley had the gall to tell her to write books with less steam to see if sales would pick up. I’m betting sales would pick up if Wiley picked up and left town. Nevertheless, she’s no longer writing her raunchy reads and has shifted to beach romances with an emphasis on friendship.

I won’t lie, I’m dying to gobble them all right up. Lord knows I’m long overdue for a beachy escape.

“Shouting out an obscenity? I’ll consider it,” I say. And I will. Times are desperate indeed when I’m taking Wiley Fox’s advice to heart.

The music shifts to something slow and moody and Mom gasps.

“This is my favorite song.” She gives Wiley’s arm a quick tug. “Oh, you just have to dance with me.” She plucks him away, and soon they’ve absorbed themselves into the crowd.

“Jury duty,” I groan with everything in me as I look to Noah and Everett. “Why did she have to remind me? Well, thank God I’m married to a judge. Everett, make this go away. I’ll give you my summons come Monday. You can take it to work and do whatever hocus-pocus necessary to make this disappear. I hate even looking at that pesky piece of paper that threatens to steal my time and freedom.”

His brows hike a notch. “I can’t make this go away. I’m afraid you’ll need to go through the motions. It’s your civic duty.”

“What?” I squawk, more than incensed that he even suggested it. “Everett, I can’t go