EXCERPT 1:
“Ow!”

I banged my cast on the kitchen island, and immediately four sets of eyes whipped my way. “I’m okay,” I said to head off the exclamations of concern I was sure were on the way.

I couldn’t blame them, of course. With my broken arm and various cuts and bruises resulting from my encounter with a deranged middle-age charity committee treasurer who was trying to kill me, I was a pitiful sight.

Lucky for me, my friends loved me anyway. I carried my cup of coffee over to the kitchen table, around which sat my best friend Susie DeAngelo, my detective boyfriend Ryan Cahill and my private investigator DC Washington. I didn’t know if I could call DC my PI, since I’d only hired him for one case and didn’t think I’d be needing him for more. But he’d definitely become my friend.

Also on the table…that’s right…on the table, sat Peekaboo, a gorgeous orange cat with huge gold eyes. No gathering would be complete without her.

The four of us, make that five counting Peekaboo, had just experienced something that I doubted very many people could claim. We’d watched the ghost of Alice Chapman go into the light. Sobering.

I should back up. I met Alice in Los Angeles seven years ago. She was in the process of being mugged by a trio of gangbangers when I stepped in to save her and pretended to call 911 and give descriptions of the muggers, which caused the lowlifes to scram. Poor Alice was a little bloody and in shock, so I went to the hospital with her and helped her feel safe again. I guess you could say we became friends, although communications between the two of us dropped off after the first few years.

Fast forward to a couple of months ago when I was summoned to Franklin, Tennessee, by Alice’s attorney, who shared the news that I was Alice’s beneficiary. Of a house, an Infiniti SUV and a very large bank account. And Peekaboo, although she was named Weeds at the time.

That’s how I came to be in Franklin. Lovely house, nice neighborhood, but that was just the frosting. The actual cake was that Peekaboo tripped me and caused a near-death experience, after which I could see Alice’s ghost. And talk to Peekaboo, who admitted that her actions were intentional because she needed me to acquire a severe head injury which would open my chakras, or whatever woo-woo result was supposed to happen. Peekaboo rushed to assure me that she knew I’d survive because…get this…she’s psychic.

Long story short, Peekaboo dropped this gift on me because she needed me to prove that Alice’s death wasn’t an accident. Guided by a talking cat and Alice’s insights, with the help of my very best friend, Susie, who, as predicted by Peekaboo, decided she wanted to move to Franklin and be my roommate, we sifted through a raft of suspects, in the meantime irking Detective Cahill, whom Peekaboo deemed to be The One, who wanted me to stay as far away from danger as possible.

But what would you do if a ghost and a talking cat pushed for you to follow the leads and bring Alice’s killer to justice?

Following those leads is what brought me into the sites of the aforesaid deranged middle-age charity committee treasurer. Hence, my cast and the myriad bandages covering various parts of my body, not to mention a few adorning my face.

The doorbell announced the arrival of pizza.

EXCERPT 2:

Leaving me, Mom, Susie and Elsie to watch from afar. And drink margaritas. I couldn’t help noticing Susie sneaking glances at DC. So sweet…

By the time we all had our paper plates loaded up, and a couple of margaritas under our belts, Elsie let the cat out of the bag, so to speak.

“It’s been tough on me watching everything that happened to your daughter, Jean,” Elsie said. “I can’t imagine how you handled it. She must have nine lives.” I was slow to pick up on the direction the conversation was heading because of, you know, the margaritas.

“What do you mean?” Mom asked, perking up.

By now I knew what was about to happen.

“Well, the first time when she fell down the stairs. She flatlined for ten minutes. The paramedics were frantically doing CPR on her as they transported her to the hospital.”

“What?” my horrified mom asked. She glared at me. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“It wasn’t that bad,” I said, trying to downplay the situation.

“And then, when that deranged woman ran her off the road and tried to stab her in the neck—”

“Elsie!” Now I was the one who turned over my drink…all over my burger.

My mom jumped to her feet to help clean up the spilled margarita, questions popping out of her mouth too fast for me to catch them all.

Ryan watched helplessly. One look at my face and he realized what was happening. I’d warned him in advance not to talk about the “incident,” but I’d forgotten to mention it to Elsie.

And Elsie was on a roll. Who knew alcoholic beverages would cause all those words to spew out of her mouth? “Because Jillian had murdered Alice and realized Erin had figured out that she was the murderer, so she had to get rid of Erin.”

I ran a hand down my face.

“You know Ryan was the police officer who was investigating Alice’s murder, right? That’s how he and Erin met. Just think, if Alice hadn’t been killed and left her estate to Erin, the two of them might never have met. And they’re such a cute couple, don’t you think?”

After that word salad, the room…make that the backyard…had gone silent. DC, being an ex-cop and a current PI, didn’t need a handbook to know that something smelly was about to hit the fan. And that he should stay out of it.

EXCERPT 3:

Peekaboo appeared by my feet as we sat in the den with our drinks and put a paw on my leg. “Bad news on the doorstep.”

“What?” I asked, and three pairs of questioning eyes turned my way.

“She said ‘Bad news on the doorstep.’ I don’t know what that means. She can be very cryptic.”

DC raised his eyebrows. “Other than quoting lyrics from ‘American Pie,’ I don’t get it either. Did she happen to sing the words?”

I laughed and shook my head.

EXCERPT 4:

Susie brought out a huge bowl of her current favorite dish, Cacio e Pepe, or, for those non-Italians in the audience, Pecorino-Romano and peppercorn-laden artisanal spaghetti. I served the oh-so-what Caesar salad. Not that I minded providing something so ordinary. Not at all…

The food was amazing. Everyone complimented the chefs. I think they mostly meant Susie, but didn’t want to leave me out, since, you know, salad and all. Feeling full and happy, I made a trip to the refrigerator for the bottle of chardonnay to refill our glasses. As I turned, I gasped and dropped the bottle. Ryan and Susie rushed into the kitchen to see what had happened.

My shocked expression caused Ryan to put his arm around me and lead me back to my seat at the table.

“Erin, what’s wrong?” Susie asked, hovering over me. DC looked like he wasn’t sure what to do.

I covered my face with my hands.

“You’re scaring me,” Ryan said, squatting by my chair.

I lifted my head to the same three pairs of eyes watching me. The only reason there weren’t five pairs of eyes was because the dog and the cat were in the backyard.

I let out a breath. “It’s Timothy.”

Nobody said anything, just looked at me with big eyes, until Susie said, “There’s another ghost in our house?”