Diana Orgain's Blog, page 12
May 27, 2021
Murder as Sweet as Honey (Cooking up Murder Mystery Series: Book Two) Sneak Peek – Chapter Two Continued
Did you miss Chapter One?
Did you miss part one of Chapter Two?
Chapter Two Continued…
Was that gel in his hair? Leo never paid much attention to how he
looked, but today his hair was slicked back and he looked downright
dashing in his well-fitted button-up.
Interesting.
Vicki closed the door and led Leo into the kitchen. He looked
around and seemed to deflate a little. “Just us?” he said. “Mona’s not
here?”
Vicki bit back a grin. So that was why he’d taken a little more time
with his appearance. “She couldn’t come today. She got tied up
waiting for the construction manager at the store. That rebuild has
been a headache and a half.”
“Oh, did that Mark guy not work out? The contractor?”
“No. And too bad. He was cute.” She looked up at the clock.
“Lunch is almost done. Cornbread will be out of the oven in fifteen
minutes.”
“Everything okay?” Leo asked after a long pause, studying her.
Vicki bustled to the stove and tasted the stew to check how it was
coming along. Savory and delicious, just like the recipe had promised.
“Aww, were you worried about me?”
Leo could read her better than anyone, and he always did feel like
he needed to protect her. Plus, after what had happened with her last
boyfriend, that big-brother instinct wasn’t going away anytime soon.
Not to mention that he was a cop and ex-military, she thought wryly.
No, there would be no dissuading him from the idea that he needed to
keep an eye on her.
Leo just shrugged, then peered through the half-open window at
the fluffy, white duck. “Hey, Sunny,” he said, tapping the glass pane.
Sunny quacked.
“So, can I call you a crazy duck lady?” he asked with an amused
grin.
Vicki rolled her eyes. “Very funny. As a matter of fact, I have news!”
She sang the last word.
“Oh?”
A huge grin overtook her face. “We’re in the Fall Festival! Mona
and I snagged a booth!”
“Bam!” He gave her a high five. “That’s amazing! As soon as you
said that awful chair lady wasn’t in charge anymore, I knew you’d get
in. You’ll outsell all the other vendors.”
Vicki warmed at the compliment. “Well, it’ll definitely be a lot of
work to put it all together, but I’m excited about the challenge.”
His nose wrinkled. “So, is that why it smells like a candy cane
factory exploded in here? New product?”
“Oh! I was just putting the finishing touches on my energizing
body scrub. Aunt Bee practically commanded me to bring samples to
Coupon Clippers tomorrow. I tried some right before you got here.”
He eyed her suspiciously.
“What are you laughing at?” She crossed her arms.
He held up his hands in surrender. “Not laughing! It’s just . . . did
you try it on your arms?”
“Yeah,” she said. “Why?”
Leo pointed to her arms.
She looked down and gasped. They were bright red! How . . .
The spilled peppermint oil. She must have spilled a lot.
Her hand flew to her mouth, and she burst out laughing. “Guess I
put a little too much peppermint oil in this batch.”
“You think?” Leo asked. “Does it hurt?”
“It burned when I put it on, but I washed it off right away. Feels
fine now.”
His lips quirked in amused concern. “Seems like you could use
some help.”
That unexpected anxiety curled in her stomach again. Yes, she
needed help. Because if she couldn’t get this business off the ground, it
was back to the soul-sucking days in the courtroom. But she turned
on a cheery smile. “Would you like to sample the next batch?”
Leo scoffed. “No way. I can’t go into work looking like I have
second-degree burns. They’d stick me at a desk.”
“Just tell them it was one of your crazy sister’s concoctions,” said
Vicki with a grin.
“Like the soap that tinged my face green?”
“The guys understood that was my fault, right?” She affected an
innocent face.
“Didn’t stop them from calling me Grinch for the next two days.
No,” he said, leaning back against the counter with his arms crossed.
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“I’m done being your guinea pig. Find someone else to torment.”
“You know you’ll help me out in a pinch.”
“Yeah, right.”
“That’s what brothers are for!”
Leo laughed and reached out to mess up her hair like she was still
twelve. He’d have her back no matter what, and they both knew it.
“All right,” he said, “I’ll help. Besides being your guinea pig or
dumping out all your peppermint oil, what can I do?”
“Well, as you know, I learn from my mistakes, so . . .” She glanced
at the clock again. “I think we have just enough time before the corn‐
bread comes out. I’m going to whip up another batch of the ener‐
gizing scrub. Could you grind up the fresh ginger root and
astragalus?” She pointed to some dried herbs on the counter.
“Sure,” said Leo, grabbing the herbs. He ground them with a
mortar and pestle while Vicki mixed the oils, honey, and salt.
“Hope you didn’t accidentally add peppermint to the cornbread,”
he quipped.
With a snort, Vicki said, “The cornbread came straight out of the
box, as God intended. I only added milk, butter, eggs, and a little
honey from my hives. But I made the stew from scratch, so that’s what
you should be worried about.”
“I’m terrified to try it,” he replied dryly. “So, Aunt Bee roped you
into Coupon Clippers?”
Vicki reached into the bowl to test the consistency of the scrub,
her nose twitching. “Yeah, maybe a month ago. You try telling Aunt
Bee no when she puts her mind to something.”
He laughed aloud. “I wouldn’t dare.”
Technically, Bee was Mona’s aunt, but pretty much everyone called
her Aunt Bee. The formidable woman always meant well, but her
chief joys in life were clipping coupons and giving opinions. Lots and
lots of opinions.
“She wouldn’t take no for an answer, and said”—her voice took on
an affectionate mimicry of Aunt Bee’s dramatic warble—“I know you
need to start pinching pennies, especially after the fire.”
“She didn’t!” Leo cried, nearly dropping the pestle.
“She did,” Vicki groaned, affecting wry horror so that Leo wouldn’t
see the panic rising in her throat. If this business didn’t work out,
she’d have to go back to being a lawyer.
That wouldn’t be so bad, right?
But she couldn’t even convince herself.
She took the herbs Leo had ground and started mixing them into
the scrub with a vengeance. She’d just gotten so tired of seeing crimi‐
nals go free. She wanted to live a quiet, happy life with her duck and
her bees. That sounded like some real peace. Way better than working
in the court system. The thought of going back to lawyering
exhausted her all the way to her bones.
No. She wouldn’t have to go back to being a lawyer. She’d pinch
pennies, in Aunt Bee’s words, until she made this business work.
She had to.
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Diana Orgain is the USA Today Bestselling Author of the Maternal Instincts Mystery Series, Love or Money Mystery series, and The Roundup Crew Mysteries. Diana is also the New York Times Bestselling co-author of the Scrapbooking Mystery Series with Laura Childs. To keep up to date with the latest releases visit Diana at www.dianaorgain.com GRAB YOUR COPY OF MURDER AS SWEET AS HONEY HERE
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Murder as Sweet as Honey (Cooking up Murder Mystery Series: Book Two) Sneak Peek – Chapter Two
Did you miss Chapter One?
Chapter Two
Mona, we’re in the festival!” Vicki exclaimed when her
best friend answered the phone.
“What? Are you serious?” Mona shrieked.
“Yes, it opens in a couple weeks. I can have a bunch of stuff ready
by then. How about you?” Vicki buckled her seat belt and leaned back
against the headrest, giddy.
“I should be able to work on some new jams this weekend,” said
Mona breathlessly. “How about we do a fall theme?”
“You read my mind.” Vicki broke out into a dance in her seat. “I
already have some cinnamon and pumpkin-spice honey sticks.”
“I could make some muscadine jam and apple butter. And some
strawberry and blueberry jam to fill out the table.”
Vicki’s mouth watered. “That sounds delicious! I’ll have my body
scrubs, some lip balm, and my honey straws. I might take along some
honeycomb too. I’ll be harvesting tomorrow after Coupon Clippers.”
“Mmm, I love your honeycomb. Did you know that beeswax is
being sold at some festivals now?”
“Beeswax, huh? Where’d you see that?”
“At the county fair last weekend. The guy selling it had some
candles, but also just the plain beeswax. He said people are using it to
coat their tools, and cheesemakers use it to cover their cheese.”
“Interesting,” she said slowly. “Beeswax is the main ingredient in
most of my products, but I could bring along a few pieces of plain
beeswax too.”
“Cool,” said Mona. “Oh, could I buy one of your relaxing scrubs?
I could sure use all the help I can get to keep my stress levels down.
These contractors working on my store are so flaky it might
kill me.”
“I’ll give you a jar,” promised Vicki.
“No, that’ll cut into your profits.”
“It’s okay.” Vicki grinned, even though Mona couldn’t see her. “I’m
doing it for a selfish reason.”
“Hmm?”
“Because I’d love some of your muscadine jam!”
“Consider it a trade. I’ll bring a jar to Coupon Clippers tomorrow!”
They hung up, and Vicki checked an incoming text message. It was
from her brother, Leo. Hey, we still on for dinner?
Of course, she replied. See you in a few hours!
The chilly afternoon air signaled autumn was upon Magnolia
Falls. From her barstool perch in her homey kitchen, Vicki squinted
down at the glass bowl on the counter. “Let’s see . . . just a little more
peppermint oil. That should do the trick,” she murmured. She
unscrewed the bottle of peppermint oil and filled the dropper.
“One, two, three . . .” she whispered, counting each drop.
This was it. She could feel it. Once she put the finishing touches on
her line of honey body scrubs, she could really try to make this busi‐
ness work. The Fall Festival would be the first big test.
She glanced out the window, at the beehives on the far side of the
yard. Her first venture into the honey business had gone up in flames
—literally—when her best friend’s store had burned down shortly
before the grand opening. Before the fire, Mona had been planning to
feature Vicki’s products. Now, neither friend had much of a func‐
tioning business. Sure, they had online stores, but Vicki’s certainly
didn’t come close to making ends meet.
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Her throat tightened at the thought of checking the balance in her
savings account.
But these scrubs—and the Fall Festival—were going to be her big
break.
I can practically smell the success! Vicki thought.
Or maybe that’s just the peppermint.
The peppermint overpowered the kitchen, even masking the spicy
smell of the simmering stew on the back burner.
Ventilation!
She opened the window halfway, letting in the crisp, clean air.
From outside came an emphatic quack.
Vicki peered down at the grassy lawn. “What’s that, Sunny? Is that
enough peppermint?”
She picked up the bottle to recap it, but a thin sheen of oil on the
glass made it slippery. The tiny jar slipped through her fingers and
fell straight into the body scrub mixture. With a little shriek, she
snatched it back up and held it up to the light. It didn’t look like too
much had spilled. But the scrub definitely had enough peppermint
now.
Sunny, her pet duck, quacked in reply and shook her white tail
feathers.
“Good girl!” Vicki closed the bottle securely, then wiped her hands
on a navy kitchen towel and reached for the bowl of blueberries she
kept close at hand. She tossed a berry out the window, and Sunny
swerved to chase it down.
“You’re all sunshine, huh?” Vicki had adopted Sunny after her
latest romantic interest had ended up in jail for burning down Mona’s
store and killing someone in the process. Adopting a duck was more
of a commitment than any of the standard breakup scripts, like
changing her hair or buying pints of Ben & Jerry’s by the armful or
learning how to swordfight, but Vicki had loved every minute of
being a duck mom.
Sunny waddled over to the kitchen window and gazed up
hopefully.
Vicki tossed her another blueberry. Then the oven beeped,
announcing it was done preheating. She glanced up at the wall clock.
“Your Uncle Leo’s going to be here soon!” she said to Sunny. “It’s time
to put the cornbread in the oven and make the salad.”
She opened the preheated oven and set the glass pan of cornbread
batter on the rack. Then she grabbed a bagged Caesar salad from the
fridge and tossed it.
Turning her attention back to her scrub mixture, she murmured.
“Now, where were we?”
She bent over and sniffed the mixture, and the overwhelming
scent of peppermint wafted over her. She grabbed a wooden spoon
and started stirring. After a couple minutes, she squinted down at the
scrub.
“I think that should do it,” she said, setting aside the wooden
spoon. She glanced out at the yard, but Sunny had wandered back to
her makeshift pond in a children’s plastic wading pool. With a half
sigh, Vicki tapped the edge of the bowl. “Guess I better test this scrub
out if I’m going to be giving samples to the coupon queens
tomorrow.”
She carried the peppermint scrub—she’d call this one her ener‐
gizing blend until she came up with a clever name for it—up the stairs
and into the bathroom.
“Self-care, for the win.” Vicki set down the bowl and smoothed
some of the scrub on her arms. Warmth tingled over her skin.
This feels good.
Her skin got hotter and hotter. Too hot. Vicki let out a yelp and
dove for the sink. She turned on the cold water and washed the scrub
off her arms.
Still feels a bit tingly. Guess that was too much peppermint oil.
She blew on her arms to cool them down.
The doorbell rang, and her eyes widened. Leo was early!
“Coming!” she yelled, toweling-drying her arms and jogging down
the stairs. She threw open the front door to greet her big brother.
“Leo!”
From the backyard, Sunny quacked frantically.
Leo chuckled and gave Vicki a quick hug. “Sounds like DuckTales
back there wants to say hi.”
“She always does.”
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Diana Orgain is the USA Today Bestselling Author of the Maternal Instincts Mystery Series, Love or Money Mystery series, and The Roundup Crew Mysteries. Diana is also the New York Times Bestselling co-author of the Scrapbooking Mystery Series with Laura Childs. To keep up to date with the latest releases visit Diana at www.dianaorgain.com GRAB YOUR COPY OF MURDER AS SWEET AS HONEY HERE
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Murder as Sweet as Honey (Cooking up Murder Mystery Series: Book Two) Sneak Peek – Chapter One Continued
Did you miss part one of Chapter One?
Chapter One Continued
“Oh!” Kristen’s eyes widened, and she snapped her fingers as if
she’d forgotten something. “I’m an idiot. Julia, could you run down
the street to the bank and get the last five month’s transactions for the
festival account? I was supposed to print those off this morning. I
need to see if a sponsor’s check has cleared. They called me up
yesterday and asked if I would look into it. It cleared a while ago, but
they’re old-school, and I want to be able to show them a physical
paper trail when they come by this afternoon.”
“Fine,” huffed Julia. She grabbed her purse and stalked out the
door.
As soon as the door closed behind her, Kristen shot Vicki a
conspiratorial grin. “That should give us some time.”
Vicki smiled back. She liked Kristen’s style.
“So, what do we have in the baskets?” asked Kristen. “Well, I
assume jam and honey? Julia mentioned something about the honey
situation from last year. She . . . can be a bit much, can’t she?”
Vicki breathed a sigh of relief and searched for something diplo‐
matic. “I like Julia, but her tastes and mine don’t necessarily jive.”
Kristen laughed aloud. “My tastes don’t jive with Julia’s either. I
think she just doesn’t like jam, to be honest. In the years she ran the
festival, she rarely let any vendors sell jam. I, however, enjoy it just
fine—and even if I didn’t, I’m aware enough to know that someone
else might.”
Tin by tin, Vicki handed over the samples. She held her breath as
Kristen smelled the two body scrubs and tasted Vicki’s cinnamon
honey and Mona’s jam.
“Where do you get your supply of honey?” Kristen asked.
“I have my own beehives,” said Vicki, running her thumb along the
rim of the wicker basket. Kristen looked impressed, so she added, “I
also grow and dry my own herbs.”
“This is what I call good quality,” said Kristen, tucking the last tin
back inside the basket. “I would love to have you sell your goods at the
Fall Festival.”
Yes! Vicki forced herself to maintain a professional grin rather than
break out into a disco celebration. “Thank you,” she said. “I hope Julia
doesn’t give you too much grief about that.”
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Kristen waved a dismissive hand. “Ignore Julia. She’s had a tough
few years with her family problems. You saw how crazy her stepdad
is.”
Vicki hesitated. “I don’t mean to pry, but . . .”
“But anyone would be curious after the yelling display they put on
out there?” Kristen said with a knowing look.
Vicki nodded sheepishly.
“Well”—Kristen glanced back and forth as if to make sure no one
was near enough to overhear them, though they were the only two
people in the warehouse—“Julia’s mom has been very sick for a few
years. Julia’s stepdad wants her to drop everything and wait on her
mother hand and foot. Like, he wants her to stay at home and take
care of her mom because it’s a daughter’s duty, or something. Now,
Julia isn’t an only child. She has a brother who’d be happy to help. But
her stepdad insists that it’s Julia’s job and only Julia’s job. He’s already
gone behind Julia’s back once and gotten her demoted to second-in-charge
of the festival. Even told her afterward that she should have
more time to look after her mom now.”
“He sounds like a real winner,” said Vicki sarcastically. Might
explain why Julia has been so mean. She has her own problems.
“Julia even offered to pay for a live-in nurse. And it’s not like she
doesn’t see her mom! She’s there literally every day—she just doesn’t
want to spend every single minute there. But the idea that Julia would
leave her mom’s bedside for even five minutes sends the man into an
uproar.”
“Wow, you’d think he’d appreciate Julia’s offer to pay for a nurse.”
Vicki picked up the basket.
“You’d think.” Kristen tapped her fingers on the table and glared at
the door. “But he’s crazy. He’s so insistent that Julia be at home with
her mom that he’s threatened to ruin the Fall Festival.”
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Diana Orgain is the USA Today Bestselling Author of the Maternal Instincts Mystery Series, Love or Money Mystery series, and The Roundup Crew Mysteries. Diana is also the New York Times Bestselling co-author of the Scrapbooking Mystery Series with Laura Childs. To keep up to date with the latest releases visit Diana at www.dianaorgain.com GRAB YOUR COPY OF MURDER AS SWEET AS HONEY HERE
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May 20, 2021
A Witch Called Wanda (An iWitch Mystery Series: Book One) Sneak Peek – Chapter One
From A Witch Called Wanda
Chapter One
MAEVE
After stumbling over the second box on her way out the door,
Maeve O’Dare paused for a moment to catch her breath. Her
move to Wisteria Pines had been rather impulsive, but when her
fiancé, Frank, had stormed out of her life, and after all the trouble
she’d been having in Hollywood, she’d needed a change.
She’d packed up her minimal belongings and headed north,
driving until she’d found this charming small town. She’d stopped at
the local truck stop to eat and befriended a woman, Gracie, who’d had
a lead on an apartment. One thing had led to another, and before
Maeve knew it, she’d signed a rental agreement.
Then Gracie’d mentioned a vacant commercial building she’d
owned smack in the heart of the small town, and another dream
reignited in Maeve’s soul. If she could get Gracie to agree to lease it to
her, she would open the small café that she’d been envisioning since
she’d been a little girl. The café would feature all her passions: vinyl,
live music, art, and vintage record players.
Maeve had been in Wisteria Pines less than a month, and things
seemed to be working out so well that it made her feel a bit charmed.
“Keys …” she muttered to herself, looking around the apartment.
“Boxes,” she said. “Boxes everywhere!” She scolded herself for not
being more organized, but after a few minutes of scavenging, she
managed to unearth the keys from beneath a stack of Hollywood
gossip magazines. Keys in hand, she raced out the door and jumped
into her beloved purple Volkswagen Beetle.
When Maeve pulled into the parking lot, she spotted a familiar red
Chevy truck parked in front of the abandoned building. She smiled
when she saw Gracie sitting on the tailgate along with her nine-year-old
niece, Penny. Maeve took a breath, trying to quell the excitement
that quivered through her belly. She hopped out of her car and threw
her purse over her shoulder, trying to emanate a confidence she didn’t
feel.
As Maeve approached the red truck, Gracie’s face lit up with a
smile that Maeve was already growing accustomed to. Gracie was tall
and slender. She helped her little niece down from the tailgate in one
smooth, graceful movement.
“Morning, sunshine,” Gracie sang. “I’m so glad you’re here. I’ve had
to beat potential renters away with a stick all week.”
A nervous energy danced in Maeve’s veins.
I’ve got to land this deal, Maeve thought.
“I’m glad you waited for me,” Maeve said. “I’ve got a good feeling
about this place.”
Gracie nodded. “I hope you won’t be disappointed. The building’s
not up to Hollywood standards.”
Maeve laughed. “Hollywood is not up to Hollywood standards.”
“What does that mean?” Penny asked.
Gracie ruffled Penny’s hair. “Never mind. It’s just a joke.” She
turned to Maeve. “You ready to check out the inside?”
“I can’t wait,” Maeve said, locking her car doors before following
Gracie toward the run-down building. “So, what did this place used
to be?”
“It used to be my grandfather’s shop. He sold a bunch of souvenirs
and cheesy little collectables is all. Basically, it was one step away from
becoming a junkyard,” Gracie said as she dug a pair of keys out of her
back pocket.
Gracie opened the door to a slew of cobwebs clinging from one
end of the door frame to the other.
“Yuck!” Penny said.
Gracie swiped at the dust. “Yeah, I know this place needs a good
cleaning.” She leveled a gaze at Penny. “Any volunteers?”
“Not me,” Penny said, giggling and skipping inside the building.
Gracie exchanged a look with Maeve. “Kids today!” She crossed to
the windows and opened the blinds to let in the sunlight.
Maeve looked around at what could very well be her future café. She
whistled and put her hands on her hips. Already her creative mind went
to work as she began to envision all the potential. She couldn’t help but
speak out loud, letting her one friend in Wisteria Pines in on her
creative genius. “Picture this,” she said, holding out both hands as she
waved her arms in the direction of the far wall. “A barista station right
over here.” She turned. “I’ll add a couch—a nice relaxing area here—“
“Maybe some bookshelves for a book exchange location?” Gracie
asked.
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“Oh yes, definitely,” Maeve said. “I’ll add some chairs here … A
window seat would look amazing in this bay window. For the walls—
some dark purple and blues to give it a sort of intimate look … We
can build some booths.”
“Booths?” asked Gracie.
“Yeah, listening booths. You know, like back in the ‘60s when
people used to go to a record store and listen to vinyl in a booth. I can
set up private jukeboxes. Totally old school.”
“That sounds amazing,” Gracie said.
“What’s a jukebox?” Penny asked.
“Like an iPod before there were iPods,” Gracie said, and Maeve
laughed.
“And, you know, if people don’t want to listen to music, they can
listen to each other and have a good old-fashioned heart-to-heart
over an espresso macchiato,” Maeve said.
“I love it,” Gracie said. “It sounds magical.”
Maeve crossed the room. “We can build a stage right here. I’ve got
to have live performances, and the acoustics?” Maeve belted out a bar,
testing out the sound. “Ah, listen to that. The acoustics are perfect.
Ooh! And over here, all over this back wall, I’m going to cover it
with—”
“Cover it with vinyl,” Gracie said, excitedly clapping her hands.
“You know it!” Maeve agreed, suddenly feeling grateful that this
woman she’d met only a few weeks prior understood her vision.
“I don’t know,” Penny said, wrinkling her nose. “It sounds boring.
What about cake? And pops and cookies and brownies?”
Maeve laughed. “Oh, we’ll have all that stuff. I have a great choco‐
late chip cookie recipe.” The little girl’s eyes lit up and Maeve didn’t
dare mention the cookies were gluten free, for fear of getting another
“yuk” out of her.
Instead, the girl said, “If you’re going to make this place into a
coffee shop, you need to dust.”
Maeve looked cautiously from Penny to Gracie. She knew that
Gracie likely had other offers on the space, and from her limited
search around town, it seemed like this was the only place anywhere
near the town square available at the moment. She chewed on her
lower lip and asked, “Will you rent me the space?”
Gracie scratched nervously at her forehead. “Gosh, you love it,
huh? Even with all the elbow grease it’ll take to get it up and
running?”
“I’ve never been afraid of hard work,” Maeve said.
“Let me show you the back rooms,” Gracie said as she walked
toward the rear of the building. Penny trailed behind her, and Maeve
followed. She couldn’t help feeling apprehensive that Gracie hadn’t
answered her question.
Is she evading me? Maeve thought.
They viewed the two small back storage rooms, complete with
shelving and wire racks that would be ideal for cooling baked goods.
Maeve’s head spun with possibilities.
“To tell you the truth, Maeve,” Gracie said, “I already have an
offer.”
Maeve’s stomach dropped, and she felt nauseous. If she didn’t get
the space, what would she do in town?
She’d been counting on this little venture to get her mind off
Frank and Hollywood. Now, the thought of sitting in her small apart‐
ment with nothing to do except dissect her rotten luck over the past
few months fueled her gumption. There was no way she was going to
let this opportunity pass her by. She needed to hit reboot on her life,
and she needed it now.
“What’s the other offer? I’m sure I can match it,” she said.
“Well, she’s looking at this place because she wants to turn it into a
sub shop. Honestly, I’d much rather have your café in my town than
another deli, but …” Gracie made her way back to the front of the
shop and Maeve followed her, feeling like she was in hot pursuit.
“I can match the offer,” Maeve blurted. “My place will make a great
community hang out. You’ll love it.”
Gracie smiled and settled down at one of the dusty tables. Maeve
sat across from her, desperate to find a way to get the lease. Penny
continued wandering around, scraping up dust and dirt with her little
tennis shoes.
“I’m sure I would love it,” Gracie said. “Do you have a name picked
out?”
“Listen: It’s Old Fashioned,” Maeve said proudly.
Gracie smiled. “I’m listening.”
Maeve laughed. “No, that’s the name. Listen: It’s Old Fashioned.”
Gracie chuckled, not in the least self-conscious about the misun‐
derstanding. “That’s great. It’s so charming.”
“When can we sign the contracts?” Maeve said.
Gracie held up a hand. “I’m sorry, Maeve. I like your idea better,
but the final decision’s not mine. I have to do what’s best for my fami‐
ly.” She gave a sideways glance in Penny’s direction.
“Who’s my competition anyway?”
“Nadine Whittaker.”
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Diana Orgain is the USA Today Bestselling Author of the Maternal Instincts Mystery Series, Love or Money Mystery series, and The Roundup Crew Mysteries. Diana is also the New York Times Bestselling co-author of the Scrapbooking Mystery Series with Laura Childs. To keep up to date with the latest releases visit Diana at www.dianaorgain.com GRAB YOUR COPY OF A WITCH CALLED WANDA HERE
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A Witch Called Wanda (An iWitch Mystery Series: Book One) Sneak Peek – Chapter Three Continued
Did You miss Chapter One?
Did you miss Chapter Two?
Did you miss part one of Chapter Three?
From A Witch Called Wanda
Chapter Three Continued…
MAEVE
No sooner did Maeve unwrap her sandwich than Gracie reached
across the table and popped her on the hand. Maeve looked up, star‐
tled, but saw that Gracie was attempting to be sly and point without
being noticed, cutting her eyes toward a woman with long, brown
hair in a tight braid, trailing all the way down her back.
“Remember the crazy woman I told you about who kept speeding
so that Joseph would pull her over?” Gracie whispered.
“Oh, wow, is that her?” Maeve asked.
Gracie nodded. “That’s Eleanor. She’s an awesome beautician if
you ever need a haircut, but she’s got a pretty colorful reputation.”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, and this is only a rumor, she had an affair with Mayor James
Wayne. I don’t know how true it is, but she and her husband divorced
last year over it, and he left town. He was irate and before leaving,
yelled it from the rooftops, but the mayor denied it, of course.”
Maeve giggled as she took a bite of her sandwich. “Small town
drama, right?”
“Of course,” Gracie agreed.
“These seats taken?” an older gentleman asked.
“Tommy!” Gracie said with a smile. “No, come sit! Maeve, this is
Mr. Ether. He’s our local farmer.” Mr. Ether smiled, and tipped his
hat as he took a seat next to them. Then, he waved his family over,
and introduced his wife, two sons, daughter-in-law, and grand‐
daughter.
“Got the whole gang out today, huh?” Gracie asked, scooting down
the bench to make room.
Tommy grinned. “I’ve got to get them off the farm every once in a
while.”
“You’re telling me,” the youngest of the Ether boys grumbled.
“Work is good for the soul,” Tommy said.
“How are the new calves doing?” Gracie asked.
“Doing good,” Tommy said and then frowned, his gaze shifting
toward the crowd.
Maeve turned to see who Tommy was scowling at and spotted
Mayor James with his assistant, Nadine.
“Everything okay?” Maeve asked.
“Sorry,” Tommy said, breaking his stare. “James and I go way back.
He and I had … well … a less than pleasant conversation the other
day.”
“He’s trying to take some of dad’s land to build a stupid shopping
complex,” the older Ether son said. “We’re over there trying to expand
our cattle operations, and this guy is threatening to use eminent
domain to take away land that’s been in our family for five
generations.”
“Are you serious?” Gracie snarled.
“He’s offering a lot of money for us to settle outside of court,”
Tommy said. “And apparently, spitting at his shoes was not the
etiquette way to respond to that. I got to hire me a lawyer to keep him
from building a shopping complex on my land. I can’t believe it.”
Next to him, Mrs. Ether tsked.
“I can’t have a bunch of shops opening up right next to my
pastures,” Mr. Ether continued. “Bunch of kids will be there all the
time, and they’ll mess with the herd.”
“Nadine is trying to talk him out of it,” Mrs. Ether said hopefully.
“She’s a sweet girl. I’m sure she’ll settle him down. A shopping
complex next to a cow pasture won’t do well anyways, and the mayor
realizes that now –but he’s too prideful to back down at this point
and admit he was wrong.” Mrs. Ether looked directly at Maeve. “I
heard you and Nadine are in a bidding war for that building Gracie’s
renting?”
Anxiety clawed at Maeve. If Nadine was the local sweetheart, it
wouldn’t benefit Maeve to be in an out and out war with the woman.
“Well, I’d like to open a café,” Maeve said, smiling as sweetly as she
could. “And I understand Nadine’s interested in opening a sub shop,
but I’m kind of curious … if she works for the Mayor—”
“Oh, she hates her job,” Gracie said.
“Of course, she does,” Mr. Ether said. “She spends all her time
cleaning up the mayor’s messes like his little affair with—”
Mrs. Ether nudged her husband. “You don’t know if that’s true.
Stop gossiping.”
Gracie and Maeve stifled a giggle.
Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, Maeve saw Donnie and his
girlfriend Julie approach the table. The young man had a big grin on
his face. Before he could say anything, Tommy Ether pointed a finger
at him. “Come to steal more of my fruit, kid?”
“I’m sorry about that, Mr. Ether,” Donnie said, looking contrite.
“I’m sure you are. I’ll bean you over the head with my cane again if
you pull another stunt like that,” Mr. Ether snarled.
Donnie nodded, then turned toward Maeve. “Are you really Maeve
O’Dare?” Officer Joseph told me you were over here.”
Maeve felt the sizzle of embarrassment flush over her. She wasn’t
used to getting so much attention for her songs. “Yes, that’s me.”
“Listen, my brother is in the band, and they want to do a cover of
one of your songs … but they …”
Maeve smiled. “Haven’t bought the rights to perform it?” Donnie
grimaced and Maeve waved a hand, dismissing his concern. “Tell him,
its fine.”
Donnie blew out a puff of air, clearly relieved there wouldn’t be a
lawsuit pending.
Then Maeve added, with a chuckle. “Just this once.”
She watched as Donnie ran back to his older brother and reported
the news.
Maeve swiveled to look at Gracie. “Is Lil here? Can I meet her?”
Gracie polished off what remained of her pulled pork sandwich
and crumpled the paper wrapper in her hand. “Sure, let’s try to track
her down.”
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They stood and said good-bye to the Ether family. As they strolled
through the crowd, Nadine rushed toward Gracie and grabbed her
arm. “I hear you’re feeding the competition,” she teased.
Gracie smiled warmly and introduced Nadine and Maeve.
“Are you trying to steal my business, darling?” Nadine asked,
placing one hand on her slender hips.
Maeve swallowed the dread she felt. She wasn’t prepared for a
confrontation. This woman seemed really sweet, and yet, she knew
what happened when you didn’t fight for your dreams. They withered
and died.
“I love the space,” Maeve said.
Nadine threw her head back and laughed. “Well, me too, missy.”
She leveled a finger at Maeve, “But you better keep looking, because
Lil and I are signing a lease agreement tonight.”
Disappointment surged in Maeve’s belly, and she felt as if she’d
retch the sandwich she’d just gobbled up.
Was it a done deal?
Had she already lost the space?
No! There has to be another way.
Before Maeve could say anything, a large man lumbered over.
“Nadine!” he barked. “Bobby needs an appointment for next week.”
Nadine sighed and wiggled her fingers at Maeve and Gracie as she
sauntered off to do the man’s bidding.
Gracie introduced the man to Maeve as Mayor James, but all the
Mayor did was squeeze her hand and walk off.
“I guess he’s not too worried about reelection,” Maeve joked. “He
didn’t even give me the time of day.”
Gracie laughed. “He probably thinks you’re not registered yet.
Otherwise, he would have sweet talked you. Anyway,” Gracie
motioned to the Mayor, who was now across the lawn speaking with
Nadine and another gentleman. “I think he’s working Bobby for some
donations.”
Maeve glanced over to see the man speaking with the Mayor. He
was tall and slim, wearing chinos and a golf shirt. He looked like he
belonged in LA, and Maeve took an instant dislike to him.
“Who is that?” Maeve asked.
“Bobby Farley–he owns the local bank, and a lot of real estate. If it
doesn’t work out with my space, you should talk to him. I’m sure he
knows a few spaces that could work for your café.”
Maeve’s heart sank as she looked into her friend’s eyes and real‐
ized that she’d probably lost the space to Nadine.
Suddenly, Mayor James called out. “Help, someone! Help! Are
there any doctors here?”
“What’s going on?” Maeve asked Gracie, but she merely
shrugged.
“Someone call 911!” Bobby Farley yelled.
Maeve watched in horror as Officer Joseph darted across the lawn
in the mayor’s direction, a feeling of dread building in her stomach.
“Someone help! Help! Nadine’s fainted!” Mayor James shrieked.
Gracie grabbed Maeve’s hand, and together, they rushed over. A
crowd of people were forming around Nadine.
“Step back, everyone. Give her some air,” Bobby said.
As they drew closer, Maeve could see Nadine sprawled out in the
grass. Officer Joseph was giving her CPR, with Mayor James pacing
nearby.
Joseph looked up at the crowd, his eyes wide from shock and
terror.
“Why isn’t anyone calling for an ambulance?” Mayor James
snapped.
Joseph shook his head, nervously running a hand through his hair.
“Sir, she’s dead.”
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Diana Orgain is the USA Today Bestselling Author of the Maternal Instincts Mystery Series, Love or Money Mystery series, and The Roundup Crew Mysteries. Diana is also the New York Times Bestselling co-author of the Scrapbooking Mystery Series with Laura Childs. To keep up to date with the latest releases visit Diana at www.dianaorgain.com GRAB YOUR COPY OF A WITCH CALLED WANDA HERE
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A Witch Called Wanda (An iWitch Mystery Series: Book One) Sneak Peek – Chapter Three
Did You miss Chapter One?
Did you miss Chapter Two?
From A Witch Called Wanda
Chapter Three
MAEVE
A pang of guilt shot through Maeve’s chest as she watched
Wanda put her tail between her legs and let out a loud,
unadulterated whine. The evening before had been really pleasant
with the dog’s company, but Maeve couldn’t shake the feeling that
perhaps someone was looking for the dog. And, even if she didn’t have
an owner, Maeve hadn’t cleared having a dog with the landlord, and
the last thing she needed right now was for the dog to make a mess of
her rental home. So, despite her moral compass screaming at her to
do otherwise, she was dropping Wanda off at the local pound.
The dog cried and yelped at Maeve when she handed the leash to
the woman behind the desk. “I think she likes you,” the woman said,
making Maeve feel even worse. “You’re Gracie’s friend Maeve, right?
She told me you might be by here. My name’s Katie. I run this sad
excuse for a pound.”
“Yeah, that’s me. Jeez, the dog sure isn’t making this easy,” Maeve
said, kneeling down to give Wanda some farewell hugs and kisses.
Wanda pressed her nose into Maeve’s cheek, and Maybe suddenly
clutched the fur around Wanda’s neck.
How did I get so attached to this dog in only one evening? Maeve
thought.
“I feel so guilty, but it’s not even my dog, you know?” she said to
Katie. “I’m sure someone will come and claim her.”
“I don’t know,” Katie says. “We’re kind of full at the moment, and
Wanda looks to be an older dog. I’ve got to be honest with you, if
someone doesn’t claim her within the next month or so, we’ll prob‐
ably have to put her down.”
Maeve’s gut tensed, as Wanda let out a frightened yelp.
“It’s like she understood that,” Maeve said, scratching the back of
the dog’s ears.
“Are you sure you want to drop her off?” Katie asked, giving the
leash a slight tug to pull Wanda towards her.
“I have to. She’s not my dog, and I don’t even know if my landlord
would let me … but, you know what … if it comes down to it, could
you take my contact information? I don’t want you to have to put her
down.”
“I think I can swing that,” Katie said with a relieved smile. She
rubbed Wanda on top of her head and then dragged her to the back
room to place her in a kennel.
Maeve’s palms started to sweat, as she listened to Wanda barking
and yelping the entire time. She reminded herself that someone
would very likely show up to claim the dog and that Wanda wasn’t her
responsibility, but the reminder did nothing to soften the blow.
Katie returned moments later, rubbing the back of her neck as
though it were sore. “Poor girl doesn’t want you to leave. I haven’t had
a dog fight me like that in a while.”
“Aw, now you’re making me feel worse!” Maeve said.
After swapping contact information, Maeve headed out the door
and back home. When she turned onto her street, she was surprised to
see Gracie’s pickup truck parked in her driveway.
Maeve smiled and waved, as she climbed out of her car.
Upon seeing her, Gracie piled out of the pickup. She was dressed
in white shorts, a stylish blue tank top, and sunglasses. Gracie studied
Maeve for a moment, in her torn jeans and plain t-shirt and said, “You
forgot, didn’t you?”
“Forgot?” Maeve had been so wrapped up in getting Wanda to the
pound, that she honestly had no idea what Gracie was talking about.
But as she stood in front of her and took in the summery outfit, the
thought suddenly hit her.
“Lunch on the Lawn!” Both women said together.
Gracie removed her sunglasses and gave Maeve a serious look. “I
thought you wanted the space for the café? You need to make a good
impression on my sister Lil, if you—”
Maeve held up a hand. “Don’t say another word! Let me run inside
and change.”
Maeve dashed into her house and rummaged through her closet.
She hadn’t had a chance yet to properly sort her clothes, and being in
a rush flustered her.
She dug through several drawers before she found anything suit‐
able. She finally settled on a pair of flowery shorts and matching pink
and green silk top. She slipped some strappy gold sandals on her feet
and quickly pinned her strawberry blonde hair with a tortoise shell
clip.
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When she ran out of the house, Gracie smiled. “Well, that’s more
like it,” she said. “Now hop in the Chevy, Maeve, because I need me
some lunch. How about you? You hungry?”
“You know what? I am. I dropped Wanda at the pound and missed
breakfast,” she said climbing into Gracie’s truck.
Gracie made a little sad face at the mention of the pound, but said
nothing while she revved the engine.
They wound through Wisteria Pines, and Maeve enjoyed the
scenery of the small town. There was a train station that offered
themed rides to tourists and locals, a quaint gold shop, and a small
town square with a statue in need of renovation. She rolled down the
window and let the mountain breeze ruffle her hair.
After a bit of drive, Gracie pulled into Wisteria Park. Maeve’s
breath caught as she saw that the little lunch event she’d been
expecting was instead, quite an extravaganza. There were vendors set
up selling homemade items such as quilts, dolls and wind chimes. A
few booths were selling desserts, ice cream, and artisanal jams and
honey. A local restaurant had set up their own tent with enough food
to feed an army.
Close to the park was a small stream with children running
around, splashing in the water. Some were wearing bathing suits;
others had merely abandoned their shoes. Near the stream was a
small stage, where a local band was setting up.
“Whoa,” Maeve said, as she and Gracie jumped out of the truck.
“This little party is a lot more than I expected. Is every person in town
here?”
Gracie shrugs. “Probably. You’re going to love it.” She pulled
Maeve through the crowd toward the food tents.
Together, they dodged children running around and playing in the
grass, teenagers tossing a football, and adults crowding around a tent
selling locally brewed beer. They stopped at a tent selling pulled pork
sandwiches and waited in the short line.
Suddenly, Gracie’s arm shot into the air, and she shouted across
the crowd. “Joseph! Hey, Joseph!”
Maeve’s face turned bright red.
A man in an officer’s uniform made his way over to them. Maeve
nudged Gracie in the side. “I told you I’m not interested in dating
right now,” she said.
“Shut up,” Gracie said through gritted teeth.
As the man came closer, Maeve’s shoulders hiked up in antic‐
ipation.
He was tall, well built, his eyes were a sparkling blue, and his
chestnut brown hair was neatly combed.
“Gracie,” Joseph said with a smile that showed off his perfectly
white teeth.
Maeve swooned and realized with a twinge of regret, that Joseph
really was as handsome as Gracie had made him out to be.
“Joseph, this is Maeve. She’s new to Wisteria Pines,” Gracie said.
Joseph studied Maeve for a moment, then asked, “Why does your
name sound familiar?”
“Because she’s famous,” Gracie said.
“I am not,” Maeve said, embarrassment washing over her.
“You are too,” Gracie insisted. “She’s a big-time song writer from
LA. She’s written, Die! You Cheating Dog, and Choke on That Lie, and I’ll
Never Get Over You.”
Joseph’s eyes grew wide. “I love those songs. Man, you’ve had some
huge names sing your tunes. I never thought I’d actually meet a
celebrity out here in Wisteria Pines.”
Maeve laughed, an unintentionally loud, nervous laugh. “Oh, I
wouldn’t call myself a celebrity.”
The radio on Joseph’s shoulder holster beeped and a voice said,
“Hey, Mont, it’s that Donnie kid again …” Joseph’s hand clamped
down on the radio, and he mouthed, “talk to you later,” as he turned to
listen to the message.
“Donnie, I swear, that boy is going to wind up in prison,” Gracie
grumbled, as they reached the front of the food line.
“Local bad boy?” Maeve asked.
“Not exactly. He just thinks he’s a bad boy. He’s actually a real
sweetheart.” Gracie pulled out her wallet and ordered two
sandwiches.
Maeve tried to stop her from paying, but Gracie said, “Save your
money, you can buy Lil a glass of wine when we see her and that will
get you into her good graces.”
They took the warm sandwiches over to a picnic table and sat
down. Gracie pointed toward the crowd, and Maeve saw two
teenagers—a boy dressed in all black and a cute blonde girl in all pink
–an odd-looking pair, though it was fairly obvious they were a couple.
The two of them were talking to Officer Joseph Mont.
“Donnie got into trouble for robbing a convenience store a while
back. His parents went through a rough divorce, and he’s been acting
out. The all black thing is new, but I’m pretty sure it’s a phase,” Gracie
said.
“Who’s the girl?” Maeve asked.
“His girlfriend Julie. Sweet girl. If his parents won’t bother trying
to turn him around, she will,” Gracie said.
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Diana Orgain is the USA Today Bestselling Author of the Maternal Instincts Mystery Series, Love or Money Mystery series, and The Roundup Crew Mysteries. Diana is also the New York Times Bestselling co-author of the Scrapbooking Mystery Series with Laura Childs. To keep up to date with the latest releases visit Diana at www.dianaorgain.com GRAB YOUR COPY OF A WITCH CALLED WANDA HERE
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A Witch Called Wanda (An iWitch Mystery Series: Book One) Sneak Peek – Chapter Two Continued
Did You miss Chapter One?
Did you miss part one of Chapter Two?
From A Witch Called Wanda
Chapter Two Continued
CHUCK
She’s gorgeous. A strawberry blonde with big eyes, dimples, and
perky breasts. In addition to being a looker, there is something oddly
familiar about her.
Perhaps she’s the one I need to find?
Sorry, Mr. Ether, but I’ve got a gal to catch!
The car is far ahead of me, but running on all fours does have its
advantages. Plus, its’ a small town, so even if I lose her, it’s not like it’s
going to be hard to find a purple Volkswagen. I don’t imagine there
are too many of those around here. It looks like every other person
here drives a truck, so this little beetle sticks out.
Luckily for me, Miss Looker doesn’t have far to go. She pulls up in
front of this abandoned building in this large parking lot. I keep my
distance for the time being, taking a moment to observe her. She’s
here meeting a friend, it seems. I watch as she interacts with her taller
companion and a young girl. After a moment, the three of them head
inside the empty building.
I strut across the parking lot and begin my investigation. I sniff
around her car, and a familiar scent tickles my nose.
Magic.
There is magic here! Beautiful, wonderful magic! Perhaps this is
why I felt called to come this way? Is this stranger the one who can
help me? Maybe so. Time to make my move.
I head to the passenger’s side of the car and let out a gentle yelp.
The door unlocks and opens, and I’m able to climb in. The door closes
on its own, and I begin my waiting game. The witchy woman who did
this to me was kind enough to leave some traces of magic for me, but I
swear, it only works half the time.
I sigh. This is my life now. A dog that can turn a few heads with a
silly magic trick.
At least I got in the car. Now I’ll just have to see how the woman
reacts to it. Hopefully I’ll be able to find a way to communicate
with her.
I wait around for a while. I can’t imagine what they could possibly
be doing in an empty building for so long. At last, I see the door open,
and the two women and the young girl come pouring out into the
parking lot.
“I’m confused,” says Gorgeous as she looks at me from behind the
glass window of the car.
I try to look adorable; women love cute dogs, right? I wag my tail.
“I locked my car,” she says and then starts looking around the
parking lot.
No, honey, no one put me in here.
“Are you sure you locked it, Maeve?” the tall woman asks, looking
just as confused as Gorgeous, whose name is apparently Maeve.
“I think so …” she says as she opens the passenger’s side door. “All
right, come on out. Shoo!”
Well, that was not exactly the greeting I was hoping for.
Come on, man, look cute.
I perk up slightly and tilt my head–I let my tail pick up speed too. I
can see her fighting off a grin as she adds, “Go on, get!”
The other woman and the girl are both laughing. “What a funny
little fella,” the tall woman says. “Where did it come from?”
Hollywood, doll-face. That’s where.
“I have no idea. Do either of you recognize it?” Maeve, Miss
Gorgeous, asks.
“Never seen it before. Must have wandered into town. Someone’s
probably missing it.”
“Can we keep him?” the little one pipes up.
Um, no, sweetie, you can’t. Trying to go home with cutie over here.
“Your mother would kill me if I let you bring home a dog,” the tall
woman says with a slight huff in her voice. She looks at me with her
nose turned up a bit.
Okay, I get it. Believe me, you are not the only one who has informed me
I stink today.
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“Actually, Penny, he is a she. It’s a girl,” Maeve says, as she attempts
to pull me out of the car.
Excuse me? I hop over into the driver’s seat to avoid her.
Baby doll, I’m a man. Why does everyone keep …?
I take a peek downstairs. Oh no … no she didn’t.
I’m a b— ! I’m a female hound! What happened? It’s bad enough
I’m a dog now, but she took my manhood! Oh, that witch. I’m going to
kill her. I swear.
“Can I name her?” the little girl squeals.
Please don’t.
Maeve is now crawling into the car, reaching for me, saying,
“Okay, pooch, you’ve got to go.”
Uh. No. I don’t.
I press myself up against the driver’s side window to avoid her.
Maeve sighs and says, “Sure, Penny,” as she climbs out of the car. She
heads around to the driver’s side to get at me. Kind of a waste of time
because I’m just going to hop into the passenger’s seat if she tries to
get me out of this car.
Sorry, toots, but I’m going home with you! You and your car reek of
magic.
“I like Wanda,” the girl says. “Can we call her Wanda?”
Wanda? Seriously? What kind of a name is that!
I’m not going by a woman’s name. It’s not happening, and there is
no way they’re going to let you name a dog Wanda, sweetie, so
you can—
“Wanda it is then,” Maeve says, and I whine softly. “All right,
Wanda, you have got to go. You’re shedding all over my car.” She flings
open the driver’s side door, and I bolt for the passenger’s seat. “You’ve
got to be kidding me. Gracie, help me out, would you?” she looks to
her friend for assistance, but her friend is hesitant.
“What are you going to do with her once you get her out? She’s
obviously lost.”
Yeah, Maeve! Listen to Gracie! Take me home with you! I’ll be a good boy
… girl … stupid witch.
“I don’t know. She must belong to someone?” Maeve says.
“It’s too fat to be a stray,” Gracie says. “Someone’s been feeding
her.”
I instinctively look at my gut.
Fat? Really?
If someone had called me fat back home, they would have lost
their job. I haven’t eaten in days until I got into town! Except that
pizza crust … ugh, my life.
“Is there a pound I can take her to?” Maeve asks.
A pound!
No sweetheart, now you’re talking nonsense.
I whine and whimper and Gracie says, “Nearest animal shelter is
about an hour’s drive—“
“Well … it’s too late for that today. Maybe I’ll keep her overnight
—”Maeve says, and I bark and wag my tail. I swear, that tail has a
mind of its own sometimes.
Maeve points a warning finger at me. “Don’t get too excited pup.
I’ll call the pound in the morning.”
I let out a mournful yelp, and doll face winces.
“Looks like Wanda wants to stay with you,” Gracie teases. “I bet
she’d be a cutie if she had a bath and got trimmed.”
Maeve holds up her hand. “I’m not in the market for a pet right
now. I don’t even know if my landlord will allow it.”
“Whatever you say,” Gracie says, “But I think you like her!”
Yes! You like me! I know you do.
Maeve climbs into her car, and shoos me over to the passenger’s
seat.
Looks like my luck has turned. Finally!
I found myself a witch to befriend. She’ll change me back, I know
she will!
I hope she has food at her house.
Soon we pull out of the parking lot and are on our way. I stumble
in the vehicle. I’ve never felt so lopsided in a car before. Maeve laughs
a little. “You all right there, Wanda?” she reaches over and touches my
head. I feel a slight shiver.
She really is gorgeous.
“Jeez, you do stink! I’m giving you a bath when we get to the
house,” she says.
Oh, beautiful, I am okay with you giving me a bath.
She stops in front of a convenience store and smiles at me. “Stay
here,” she says and rolls the window down for me. She hurries inside
and returns shortly with a large bag of dog food, dog treats, and dog
shampoo.
Dog food? No thanks.
We keep going down the road, eventually turning down a dirt road
not far from the Main Square. The homes are all on large lots, with a
little acreage, it seems–I really do feel like I’m in a movie–very Sweet
Home Alabama, though I know I’m only a six-day walk from LA.
She pulls up to the only house without tacky lawn ornaments, but
it has grass that’s knee high. “Come on, girl,” she calls, and I willingly
get out of the car and follow her up to the house.
“Straight to the bathroom with you, stinky,” she says.
I listen and look for a bathroom. I find it and sit patiently. She
raises a brow. “Smart dog.” Did you understand me?”
I yelp, and she laughs as she heads into the bathroom to turn on
the water.
Phase one of my plan is done.
Now I just have to figure out how to let her know I need her help.
And I really do need her help.
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Diana Orgain is the USA Today Bestselling Author of the Maternal Instincts Mystery Series, Love or Money Mystery series, and The Roundup Crew Mysteries. Diana is also the New York Times Bestselling co-author of the Scrapbooking Mystery Series with Laura Childs. To keep up to date with the latest releases visit Diana at www.dianaorgain.com GRAB YOUR COPY OF A WITCH CALLED WANDA HERE
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A Witch Called Wanda (An iWitch Mystery Series: Book One) Sneak Peek – Chapter One Continued…
From A Witch Called Wanda
Chapter One Continued
Maeve stiffened, something about the name set off an alarm. She
hadn’t been in town that long, so to recognize the name at all made
her feel as if she must have met the woman, and yet she couldn’t
place her.
Is the woman high profile enough to snatch this space out from under me?
Maeve wondered.
“That name actually sounds familiar. I know I’ve only been here
for a few weeks … Do I know her?”
“She’s the mayor’s secretary. You’ve probably heard her name
around town,” Gracie said. “It’s a small town, so everybody is a gossip.
I’m sure it’s a big change from LA.”
Maeve laughed. “Trust me, everyone gossips in LA too.”
“I can’t believe you left Los Angeles for a place like Wisteria Pines.
From what you’ve said, your songwriting career was going pretty
well.”
It was true. Maeve had written a couple of songs that had hit the
charts. They’d paid enough to put away a little nest egg for herself, but
along with success came demand, and when she hadn’t been able to
produce the next hit fast enough, people got nasty.
And then there was Frank …
Gracie must have noticed something telling on her face, because
she offered kindly, “Just needed a change of pace?”
Maeve glanced over her shoulder to make sure that Penny wasn’t
eavesdropping. The girl was drawing stick figures with her fingers in
the dust on the windows. “Between you and me, there was a bit more
to it than just wanting to get out of the big city. I was engaged, and he
… One night we were together, and then … he left me.”
Gracie covered Maeve’s hand with her own. “Oh, honey. I’m so
sorry. Sometimes men … ”
Maeve sighed. “You know it’s all probably for the better. He could
be very mean. That night, he was drunk … and we fought. I had to
wrestle his keys from him and call him an Uber. But I didn’t think it
would be the last time I saw him.”
Gracie frowned, fine lines appearing on her otherwise smooth
forehead. “You called him an Uber and never saw him again? He
didn’t come back for his car?”
Maeve shrugged and nodded.
“How can that be? What, did he run off with the Uber driver?”
Maeve laughed cynically. “Seems like that, right? I churn that
option over in my head every night. It doesn’t help that I caught a
glimpse of her that night too. She was a gorgeous redhead. Anyway, I
don’t know what happened to him, but he stopped returning my calls
and stopped paying his half of our rent for our music studio.” She
shrugged. “He dipped out.”
The familiar longing settled on her chest, and tears burned the
back of Maeve’s eyes. She cleared her throat. “Anyway, I can’t really
talk about it much more. It still stings, you know?”
Gracie patted Maeve’s hand. “Well, don’t you worry, Ms. Holly‐
wood, I’m sure you’ll fit in fine. We’ve got a cluster of characters
around here. I’m sure you’ll meet Miss Nadine sometime; she’s a total
sweetheart, but knowing her, she’s going to give you a hard time
about trying to take this building out from under her. Ooh, you know
what? Since you’re recently single, I’ll have to introduce you to Joseph
Mont. Mmm …”
Maeve laughed nervously. “Oh. No!”
“Oh, yes! He’s a local cop. Trust me, you won’t mind if he stops you
for speeding just so you can gawk at him for a few minutes. Eleanor,
she owns the beauty shop down the street from here, once sped down
the road on purpose so he’d pull her over, and they could talk. He
caught onto what she was doing. She started a trend, though. The
sheriff took him off that road because three other women did the
same thing—no joke!”
“Nobody’s that cute.”
“He is!” Penny piped in as she circled her finger through the dust
on the window, creating a fairy looking caricature.
“I’m going to tell your mother you said that!” Gracie teased.
Penny turned around long enough to stick her tongue out at her
aunt and then returned to her masterpiece.
Gracie leaned in toward Maeve and whispered, “He really is,
though.”
Maeve laughed. “Well, there’s no shortage of good-looking men in
LA, believe me. But I’m just not interested, at the moment.”
Gracie wiggled her eyebrows at Maeve. “You say that now, but
when you see him—”
Maeve gave her a friendly kick under the table. “I’m good. So, do I
write you up an offer? Or how does this work? I can pay the first
year’s rent in cash.”
Gracie straightened in her chair. “Really? That’s one in your
favor.”
Maeve nodded solemnly. If there was anything she’d learned in
Hollywood, it was how to make a deal.
“I’ll be sure to mention that to my sister. But I can’t promise
anything. She and Nadine go way back, and I’m not sure what they’ve
already agreed to.”
A wave of apprehension hit Maeve square in the chest. She was
about to be small towned. In LA, money bought most things. The only
thing that trumped cash was relationships. She had no doubt that, in
Wisteria Pines, it would be the same. The town would rally around a
local, rather than an outsider. She was going to have to fight for her
dream.
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Oh, well, I’m not a novice at perseverance, Maeve thought.
“When can I meet your sister?” Maeve asked.
Gracie thought for a moment. “Tomorrow is the Lunch on the
Lawn.“ She swiveled in her chair, and asked Penny. “You and your
mom are going, right?” When Penny nodded happily, Gracie turned
back to Maeve and asked, “You want to go together?”
“Lunch on the Lawn?” Maeve asked, “What’s that?”
“It’s a lot of fun. It’s at Wisteria Park, it’s a grassy knoll with picnic
tables all set up. The local restaurants sell food, and the city hires a
band to play. Food and dancing in the sun, basically. If the weather is
clear, we might even get fireworks. It’s Wisteria Pine’s social extrava‐
ganza that officially kicks off summer. It’ll be a good place for you to
meet some of the locals.”
“That sounds like fun,” Maeve beamed. “I’d love to go. You can
introduce me to everyone.”
“I’ll introduce you to Officer Joseph Mont, in particular,” Gracie
said with an over-exaggerated wink.
“Would you please stop?” Maeve said, but she couldn’t help
chuckle at Gracie’s goofy grin.
Suddenly, Penny squealed and came running over to the table.
“Ms. O’Dare, you didn’t tell us you had a dog!”
Maeve raised a brow.
A dog?
It was a completely out-of-the-blue statement.
“Um … I don’t own a dog, Penny.”
Penny laughed as though she thought Maeve was joking with her.
“Um, yes you do. It’s in your car.”
Maeve and Gracie exchanged glances.
“I don’t own a dog,” Maeve assured them, pulling herself out of the
rickety chair and crossing to the window where Penny had been
doing her drawings. “Oh my goodness, there really is a dog in my car!”
They raced out of the building and toward Maeve’s Volkswagen. A
large, brown shaggy dog was seated in the passenger’s seat of her car,
panting.
“I’m confused,” Maeve said, as she stared at the filthy looking
canine. “I locked my car.” She looked around the empty parking lot,
expecting to see a giggly teenager poke his or her head around a
corner somewhere to admire the unusual prank, but she saw no one.
“Are you sure you locked it, Maeve?” Gracie asked.
“I think so …” Maeve second guessed herself. She opened up the
passenger’s side door. “All right, come on out. Shoo.” The dog tilted its
head slightly and perked up at her, but it didn’t move. “Go on, get!”
Maeve said, but the dog’s ears merely twitched.
Gracie and Penny burst out laughing. “What a funny little fella,”
Gracie said. “Where did it come from?”
“I have no idea. Do either of you recognize it?” Maeve asked.
“Never seen it before,” Gracie said with a shrug. “Must have
wandered into town. Someone’s probably missing it.”
“Can we keep him?” Penny squealed.
“Your mother would kill me if I let you bring home a dog,” Gracie
scolded.
“Actually, Penny, he is a she. It’s a girl,” Maeve said, attempting to
drag the dog out of the car, but it leaned back away from her and then
hopped into the driver’s seat to escape.
“Can I name her?” Penny asked.
“Okay, pooch, you’ve got to go,” Maeve said, crawling into her car
to pull the dog out. The dog pressed itself against her driver’s side
window, and Maeve sighed as she retreated from the car. “Sure,
Penny,” Maeve said, making her way around to the driver’s side.
“I like Wanda,” Penny said. “Can we call her Wanda?”
“Wanda it is then,” Maeve said. “All right, Wanda, you’ve got to go.
You’re shedding all over my car.” She flung open the driver’s side
door, only to have the dog instantly hop over to the passenger’s seat
again. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Gracie, help me out, would you?”
“What are you going to do with it once you get it out? It’s obvi‐
ously lost,” Gracie argued.
Maeve let out a loud sigh. “I don’t know. She’s got to belong to
someone.”
“It’s too fat to be a stray,” Gracie suggested. “Someone’s been
feeding her.”
“Is there a pound I can take her to?” Maeve asked.
Gracie shook her head. “Nearest animal shelter is about an hour’s
drive—“
Maeve sighed. “Well … it’s too late for that today. Maybe I’ll keep
her overnight—”
The dog barked happily and shook its tail.
Maeve pointed a warning finger at the dog. “Don’t get too excited,
pup. I’ll call the pound in the morning.”
The dog’s tail sagged and she let out a mournful yelp that tugged at
Maeve’s heart.
“Looks like Wanda wants to stay with you,” Gracie teased. “I bet
she’d be a cutie if she had a bath and got trimmed.”
Maeve held up her hand. “I’m not in the market for a pet right
now. I don’t even know if my landlord will allow it.”
“Whatever you say,” Gracie said, “But I think you like her!” She
ushered Penny over to her pickup truck and they both waved as they
climbed in.
Maeve slipped into her car, shooing the dog into the passenger’s
seat. As she started the engine, she turned to look at the dog. The dog
wagged her tail and looked so content to be with Maeve, that for the
first time in a long time, Maeve felt inexplicably happy.
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Diana Orgain is the USA Today Bestselling Author of the Maternal Instincts Mystery Series, Love or Money Mystery series, and The Roundup Crew Mysteries. Diana is also the New York Times Bestselling co-author of the Scrapbooking Mystery Series with Laura Childs. To keep up to date with the latest releases visit Diana at www.dianaorgain.com GRAB YOUR COPY OF A WITCH CALLED WANDA HERE
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May 17, 2021
Murder at Yappy Hour (Roundup Crew Mystery Series: Book One) Sneak Peek – Chapter One
From Murder at Yappy Hour
Chapter One
“What do you mean, you fired her?” I said into my cell
phone as I brushed sand from the beach towel.
It was at least the fourth time I’d had the same conversation with
my great-uncle Ernest. Grunkly-E we called him, which morphed into
Grunkly, but on occasion turned into Grouchy or Grumpy. He was
one of the reasons I’d recently relocated to Pacific Cove. He and my
sister, Rachel, not to mention the fact that my stint as a financial
advisor in New York had come to an abrupt end after the market had
crashed.
It was time to hit the reset button on my life. What I needed most
was some fresh seaside air, and when I’d learned that the Soleado
Mexican Riviera Cruise Line had opened a new port in town, the
position of bookkeeper/purser practically shouted out my name.
“Well, Maggie, she was real mean. She wanted me to walk around
and stuff,” Grunkly said.
A few months back, Grunkly suffered a mild heart attack. He’d
been hospitalized and on the verge of “the great beyond” as he called
it, but he’d battled back from the heart attack and the case of pneu‐
monia he’d contracted. Actually, at his age of eighty-four, the doctors
all considered it a miraculous recovery. Now our biggest obstacle was
finding him a day nurse that he liked, or rather, wouldn’t fire at the
drop of a hat.
“You’re supposed to walk around! Breathe some fresh air. That’s
how you’re going to get better.”
“I’m already better. Plus, she didn’t like Benny. Actually told him I
wasn’t home, when I was.”
I laughed. Benny was Grunkly’s longtime bookie. If anyone got in
the way of Grunkly’s gambling they were sure to get the ax.
“I wanted to place a bet on Winged Arrow. The odds are seven to
two. Is he there now?” Grunkly asked.
“Here? I’m at the beach,” I said.
“I know the trainer, Aaron, was going to take Winged Arrow out
there, to walk in the salt water. It’s good for the hooves. I thought
maybe Benny might be with them.”
I glanced up and down the beach. There was a couple near me
perched on a plaid blanket, a platinum blonde who looked like an
escapee from America’s Next Top Model with her Ken-doll boyfriend.
Then in the distance was a group of people walking their small dogs.
I figured the group had to be the Roundup Crew, or at least part of
them. I knew from my sister, Rachel, that this group met every Friday
on the beach for a walk that ultimately ended up at her bar, The Wine
and Bark, for Yappy Hour. My sister was as happy-go-lucky as they
came, and I was glad she found her calling running a bar; it seemed
the perfect fit for her personality.
“No, Grunkly. I don’t see Benny or Aaron and Winged Arrow.”
“That’s too bad.” He paused. There was a small sound as if he was
lighting a cigarette.
“You’re not smoking, are you?”
Grunkly had smoked for over sixty years.
“No,” he said, almost too fast. “I’m not supposed to be smoking,
Magpie!”
“I know you’re not supposed to be smoking! But it kind of sounded
like you just lit a cigarette.”
“No,” he said again.
“So, what I’m figuring is that the nurse who came over today
wasn’t letting you smoke and—”
GRAB YOUR COPY OF MURDER AT YAPPY HOUR HERE
“Sweetheart,” he said quickly. “I’m wondering if I could bother you
to run an errand for me.”
I smiled to myself. He’d do anything to get me off the topic of his
smoking.
“What errand? I’m not buying you a carton of Lucky Strikes,” I
said.
A seagull landed on my towel and thrust its beak out at me, accus‐
ingly. No doubt looking for crumbs. I pulled a roll of Ritz Crackers
out of my bag, the motion scaring the bird away.
“I was thinking you could pick me up a nice cut of steak. Go to the
Meat and Greet. They always have some nice filet mignons on hand.”
The Meat and Greet was a locally owned shop that sold quality
cuts of meat and hand-painted greeting cards. The downturn in the
economy had hit Pacific Cove so hard that it seemed almost every
shop or storefront did double billing just to stay in business. There
was Bradford and Blahnik—which was a law firm selling designer
shoes in order to keep their practice open. Dreamery Creamery, the
ice cream shop that sold kids’ clothes, and Magic Read, which was
part magic shop and part bookstore/café.
Even Rachel was running a semi-double business with a wine bar
that catered to dog owners and their beloved beasts.
“Sure, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for my Grunkly,” I said,
breaking up a cracker and dropping the bits on the sand next to my
towel. The seagull returned followed by a flock of its friends. I
crumbed the rest of the package and stood. It was getting too hot to
sit at the beach, anyway. Sweat was dripping down my face. I
needed some shade. “I’ll pick up a couple of steaks and be over
later.”
<><><>
After dropping my beach bag at my apartment and taking a quick
shower, I frantically checked messages. There was no update from the
Soleado Cruise Line. Well, after all, it was late Friday afternoon. I
couldn’t be too disappointed.
Didn’t most hiring managers reach out early in the week?
Yes, Monday I would surely get a call to schedule an interview. I
just had to stay optimistic, and there was nothing like shopping to
keep one’s spirits up. I slipped my credit card into my jeans pocket
and headed downtown.
It was a short walk on a small cobblestone path. The town should
have been called Pacific Charm, because that’s exactly what it exuded.
There was a fountain in the center of the town square with a marble
statue of a man on a horse. It was rumored that the statue was of the
town’s founder, yet the placard had mysteriously disappeared ages
ago, and nobody I talked to could remember the founder’s name. The
statue looked remarkably like John Wayne. The only way I could
reconcile this in my mind was that either the Duke had founded
Pacific Cove or the artist who had created the statue had been a fan.
The town square was flanked by restaurants and little shops. In
one corner of the square was a sundial and opposite that was Rachel’s
bar. I glanced at my watch. It was early, still only 4:00 p.m., but Rachel
might already be there prepping for Yappy Hour. I decided to pop in
on her after picking up the steaks for Grunkly. From another corner,
the smell of homemade waffle cones wafted through the air.
Ah, the Dreamery Creamery!
First the steaks, then I’ll splurge on a cone before dropping in on Rachel.
I stopped in front of the window of Designer Duds. There was a
handbag in the shape of a chicken prominently displayed. I stifled a
giggle. The jacket on the mannequin next to the chicken bag, however,
was what caught my eye. It was navy blue with little white anchors
embroidered on it. I imagined showing up to an interview with
Soleado Cruise Line wearing the jacket.
Too overzealous?
Probably.
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Diana Orgain is the USA Today Bestselling Author of the Maternal Instincts Mystery Series, Love or Money Mystery series, and The Roundup Crew Mysteries. Diana is also the New York Times Bestselling co-author of the Scrapbooking Mystery Series with Laura Childs. To keep up to date with the latest releases visit Diana at www.dianaorgain.com GRAB YOUR COPY OF MURDER AT YAPPY HOUR HERE
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Murder at Yappy Hour (Roundup Crew Mystery Series: Book One) Sneak Peek – Chapter Three Continued
Did you miss Chapter One?
Did you miss Chapter Two?
Did you miss part one of Chapter Three?
From Murder at Yappy Hour
Chapter Three Continued…
“Jen said she was going to send an ambulance. Maybe they can give
her oxygen or something when they get here,” Yolanda said.
I raised my head. “I’m fine.”
Yolanda’s hand fluttered to her chest. “No, you’re not. We’ve had a
big shock and you nearly passed out.”
I glanced at Officer Brooks and caught him studying me. I self
consciously smoothed down my wet hair.
A smile played around his eyes, and he said, “You’re Rachel’s
sister?”
I nodded.
“Where is she?” he asked. “Have you called her and told her about
Dan?”
I swallowed past the dry spot in my throat. “No,” I muttered.
He nodded. “Okay, good. Let’s keep it that way for a bit. This is a
small town and I want to be able to control the information for as
long as I can.” He gave Yolanda a meaningful look. “Let me notify the
next of kin before word gets out, okay?”
Yolanda stroked her collarbone, a strange expression on her face.
As if she didn’t know whether she should be offended at being called
the town gossip or take it as a compliment. She seemed to decide on
taking it as a compliment, because she reached out and squeezed
Officer Macho’s forearm. “You can count on me,” she said.
I stood and crossed behind the bar, hoping to put some distance
between them and myself. “I’m going to pour myself a drink now.”
Officer Brooks raised a hand. “Hold on. I’m going to have to ask
you not to touch anything back there. This is a crime scene.”
“Oh! I already poured one for her,” Yolanda said, managing to look
contrite while batting her eyelashes at him.
I picked up the half-full brandy and raised it toward her.
“Thank you.” I smiled at Officer Brooks. “Drinking a bit of brandy
is not against the law, is it?”
Officer Brooks’s eyes narrowed in response.
Beepo came around to the back of the bar. I expected him to snarl
at me, but instead he sat down on his hind legs and watched me.
“So, where did you say Rachel was?” Officer Brooks asked.
I sipped the brandy, enjoying the smooth burn down my throat.
“Uh,” I hesitated. “She’s out of town. I’m in charge of the bar. Um.
Until she returns.”
Officer Brooks frowned, and for a moment he looked like he was
going to say something but then seemed to think better of it and
simply nodded. He walked toward the body and asked, “Did either of
you touch him?”
“Oh no, I didn’t touch him. Why would I touch him?” Yolanda
squawked.
Beepo’s triangle-shaped ears perked up when he heard Yolanda
and he immediately got up and moved out from behind the bar to go
to her. I looked at the spot he’d left vacant. The Meat and Greet bag
had been torn into and lay in shreds on the floor.
Figures the dog took advantage of our distraction and had himself a killer
meal.
“Did you touch the body, Maggie?” Officer Brooks asked. “I did. I
took his pulse,” I said.
“Oh! Yes, poor thing! You did! That’s probably what sent you right
over the edge,” Yolanda said.
“Did you move him at all?” Officer Brooks asked.
GRAB YOUR COPY OF MURDER AT YAPPY HOUR HERE
“Uh . . . I just lifted his arm to try and take the pulse, that’s all,” I
said.
Officer Brooks looked from the body to me. His eyes held mine
for a moment, then I broke the connection and sipped the brandy.
“And I closed his eyes,” I said. “They were open. He had a dead, you
know, a dead glazed look.” I sighed and shrugged.
Officer Brooks nodded. “Uh huh. What about the wine bottle?
Anyone touch that?”
Yolanda and I exchanged looks. “No,” she said. “I didn’t touch it.”
I eyed her cautiously, a chill raising goosebumps on my arms. I
hadn’t seen her touch the bottle, that much was true, but she’d been
standing over the body when I got here. She’d said the back door had
been open. Why would both the back and the front door be left
unlocked? It made no sense.
And what exactly had she said to Officer Brooks while I was trying
to wash away past sins in the bathroom?
I realized that Officer Brooks was waiting for my response. “I
didn’t touch it, either,” I said.
The front door opened and a wiry man wearing spectacles popped
his head inside. “Got a call from dispatch,” he said.
Officer Brooks waved him in. “Come on in, Henry.”
Henry was wearing coveralls, but he had such a young, fresh-faced
boyish look that it was difficult to think of him as a crime scene tech.
He nodded toward Yolanda and me, while he crossed the length of the
bar toward the body.
“I’m going to cordon off the bar,” Officer Brooks said as he
motioned to Yolanda and me to follow him out the door.
“Wait! What do you mean cordon off the bar? I’m supposed to
open in—” I glanced at my watch.
Crap! Almost 5:00 p.m. Yappy Hour!
“No, no. Bar is closed for tonight.” Officer Brooks held open the
front door and peered out into the street. “Oh, good. Backup.” He
turned to us. “Ladies, I’ll need you to give your statements to Officer
Ellington.”
I couldn’t leave. I still had to the get the paper out of his pocket.
Yolanda picked up Beepo and marched toward the front door.
“Remember, please don’t say anything about Dan yet,” Officer
Brooks warned Yolanda. “We need to notify the next of kin first.”
“Mum’s the word,” Yolanda said, making a dramatic gesture of
covering her mouth with her forefinger, then waggling it at Officer
Hottie-Pants.
Henry was getting busy with the body, taking pictures and
measurements and all sorts of things.
Officer Brooks quirked an eyebrow at me, no doubt wondering
why I wasn’t beating feet right out the door.
“How long do I have to stay closed for?” I asked, stalling for time.
“We’ll be out of here tonight. You should be able to open tomorrow.
Leave me your number.” He smiled slowly. “I’ll call you.”
Just hearing the words, “I’ll call you,” coming out of his sexy mouth
gave me a thrill, but I reminded myself that he wasn’t inviting me out
to dinner.
I grabbed a Post-it pad from near the cash register, carefully
avoiding the bowl of Bark Bites that was nestled next to it, and scrib‐
bled my cell phone number down. As I shuffled around the bar, a
clamoring ruckus sounded from the street.
Officer Brooks stepped into the doorway and peered out. His back
was to me, his attention momentarily distracted, and the dreaded
paper was poking right out of his back pocket!
Now was the time for action!
I practically dove toward his pants, but restrained myself at the last
moment. I gingerly plucked the paper out of his pocket and replaced it
with the Post-it. He stiffened as he felt me brush against him.
I patted his back pocket and winked. “Yeah, call me.”
GRAB YOUR COPY OF MURDER AT YAPPY HOUR HERE
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Diana Orgain is the USA Today Bestselling Author of the Maternal Instincts Mystery Series, Love or Money Mystery series, and The Roundup Crew Mysteries. Diana is also the New York Times Bestselling co-author of the Scrapbooking Mystery Series with Laura Childs. To keep up to date with the latest releases visit Diana at www.dianaorgain.com GRAB YOUR COPY OF MURDER AT YAPPY HOUR HERE
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