Sneak Peek!
Drama in the Bahamas Cruise
Book Description:
Chapter 1
Three hours from now…
The Victim
Main Street is buzzing here in Honey Hollow with way too much Thanksgiving cheer for my liking.
The storefronts are decked out in autumn leaves and twinkle lights while laughter fills the air, mingling with the smell of freshly baked pies.
I walk along, feeling pretty smug and a little too pleased with myself, and I’ll admit, it’s a darn good feeling.
I’ve gotten away with everything.
Some might say I’ve gotten away with murder—and it’s honestly thrilling.
I can’t help but think about how I’ve tormented, in one way or another, each person I’ve come into contact with so far tonight.
It brings a goofy grin to my face just thinking of it.
In fact, I can’t help but grin as I think about the little head games I’ve got brewing. The cutthroat threats, the lascivious secrets I’ve dangled over the heads of my victims—it’s all too easy and it’s nothing but one big thrill. A big thrill that will yield the perfect payout for me.
Not only will I be able to bail myself out of the hot water I’m sitting in with the mob, but I should have enough to take off for the Caribbean and create a whole new life for myself.
Hopefully, there will be a hot blonde waiting for me on the beach when I get there. If not, I’ll buy one or twelve.
How’s that for manifesting my destiny?
I pause to admire my reflection in a display window and feel a surge of satisfaction. The world keeps spinning, all of Honey Hollow is bustling around me, blissfully unaware of the strings I’m pulling, and I’m looking pretty decent while doing so.
A crowd begins to gather at the bakery down the street. Looks as if a pie-eating competition is about to start.
“Come and join us,” a hot blonde shouts. “There’s still plenty of room, and the winner gets a fifty-dollar gift card to the Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery—not to mention all the pumpkin pie you can eat tonight!”
A gift card and all the pumpkin pie I can eat?
A laugh strums through me. That little lady has no idea who she’s talking to. I can put away enough pumpkin pie to feed an entire football team. She’s going to be out of pie by the time I get through with that little competition, and I’ll be one fifty-dollar gift card richer because of it.
See there?
Things just keep going my way. I’ve already manifested another one of my deepest desires—all the pie I can stuff my face with.
I sign up and soon I’m seated at the table with the other contestants, eyeing the lineup of pumpkin pies with a mountain of whipped cream. I can hardly wait to get my mitts on it.
“All right, folks,” the cheery hottie calls out. “I’m Lottie Lemon, the owner of the bakery, and I’ve got an entire line of pumpkin pies ready and raring to go. You may use a fork if you so please, you may use all the extra whipped cream you want, and you may—start now!”
The crowd cheers with excitement as I hunker down and focus on the feast in front of me.
Time to indulge.
I dig in, savoring each sweet bite as I shovel it in as fast as I can.
The crowd roars as the excitement builds, but something is starting to feel off.
My chest tightens, my throat constricts.
Panic sets in.
The fork slips from my hands as I gasp for breath.
I look up, and to my surprise I see them standing in the crowd as a dark malevolent smile curves on their lips. They nod my way and offer a wink as I struggle to breathe.
This is their doing, they’ve arranged for my demise.
The world blurs around me, and it hits me—this is it.
So, this is how it ends. I shake my head at the disbelief mixed with bitter irony. All of my smug satisfaction evaporates as darkness closes in.
The last bite taken was my last bite indeed.
Amidst the festive cheer of Honey Hollow, all of my secrets will die with me, leaving behind a mystery that will unravel in ways no one will expect.
I can only hope every last secret I’ve harbored for my enemies will be unleashed.
And that will be my final act of revenge.
A sadistic smile trembles on my lips as the world goes black.
Chapter 2
Present
Effie
“I’m going to be rich,” Lily Swanson announces as she holds a tray of freshly iced cinnamon rolls in her hands.
We hit a little lull with the customers right here in the Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery, and apparently Lily felt the need to fill the void with her financial fantasies.
“I’m going to be richer,” Suze counters, as she steals a cream puff from one of the refrigerated shelves and shoves it in her face.
And I’m about to do the same—the shoving a cream puff in my face part, not the getting rich. Although riches wouldn’t be so bad either, but with my luck, the money would come with a pox—and most likely a prison sentence.
Lily Swanson is a cheeky brunette about my age, late twenties, who has been working at the bakery a heck of a lot longer than I have. She’s sassy, sarcastic, and can only tolerate so much of our boss, Lottie Lemon.
Evidently, Lily was Lottie’s high school bully way back when. I’m shocked Lottie hired her at all.
And Suze is Lottie’s mother-in-law, or ex-mother-in-law, or mother-in-law-to-be again. Honestly, I can’t keep track of Lottie’s prolific love life. All I know is she’s got two hot men after her twenty-four seven. One is a red-hot homicide detective and one is a scorching hot judge. Whatever that woman is cooking up in the bedroom, it must be a really sweet treat. Now that’s one recipe I wouldn’t mind swiping from her.
Anyway, Suze is pushing sixty or seventy. She’s tall, stocky, and has a mean bite. She wears her blonde locks shorn around the ears and has bangs that she’s constantly blowing out of her eyes. And if you turn your back on her, she’s been known to give you the finger. Or at least that’s what she does to Lottie—and I’m assuming me.
I, on the other hand, love Lottie.
Lottie Lemon is the reason I actually have a cover for the fact I’m really a mob assassin. Working at the bakery part-time has not only met my voracious need for carbs, but it gives me something to talk about in polite company when they ask what I do for a living. Sure, Lottie doesn’t know my secret. No one does except for my sneaky sister Niki, and my Aunt Cat, and her bestie Carlotta, and well, my Uncle Jimmy, of course.
And as of Halloween night, you can add Cooper to that equation, too.
We’re smack in the middle of fall, just one week away from the most delicious day of the year—Stuff-Your-Pie-Hole-Till-You-Drop Day, aka Thanksgiving, and the bakery has been nonstop busy from the minute we open until the minute we shove them out the door with the threat of a taser. Kidding, mostly. We use a broom.
The bakery is decorated to the nines with fall-themed garlands, faux fall leaves, and tiny pumpkins lining the shelves. The centerpiece is a cornucopia overflowing with seasonal fruits and pastries, drawing the eye of every customer who steps inside.
The atmosphere in the bakery is a blend of holiday cheer and the sweet promise of overindulgence with Lottie’s delicious desserts. I should know. I overindulge at least twice a week.
Okay, fine. It’s twice a day. But who could blame me? With all these pies, cakes, and cookies, I’m destined to turn into a stick of butter before the new year rolls around—or more likely a big round ball of butter.
My name is Eufrasia Margarita Canelli, but people just call me Effie. I’m five feet five inches of fun, have dark medium-length hair, dark eyes, and a knack for landing myself in the deadliest and some might say dumbest of situations. Like with Cooper, yet once again.
Homicide Detective Cooper Knox, aka Cupertino Lazzari, was almost my plus-one. That is, until he caught me quasi-red-handed working as a hitwoman for my Uncle Jimmy, one of the top dogs when it comes to mob bosses here in Vermont.
Not that Cooper has said anything to me outright about his recent discovery—mostly because once I saw that murder board with my face sitting in the middle of it in Cooper’s office, I ran past him and have been evading him like a con on the run for the last two weeks.
And ironically, I’m using the words con on the run in the most literal sense.
Suffice it to say, this little kink has put our relationship on ice, most likely indefinitely with the exception that we just so happen to share custody of the cutest golden shepherd puppy you ever did see.
And have I mentioned that cute pooch has an IQ that rivals Einstein’s?
Said cute pooch is with Cooper right now, probably helping the good detective solve a case—the one that involves me.
Just my luck, instead of Doogie Howser, I’ve got a Doggie Bowser, and he’s using his intellect against me. Everyone knows he’d do just about anything for a slice of bacon, including sending his own mother up the river for twenty to life.
Traitor.
Anyway, my boss Lottie, my sister Niki, and just about anyone else I can rope into the effort have been helping me with the puppy exchange whenever Cooper comes around to give back or receive the little cutie.
I’m not ready to face Cooper just yet. Most likely because I’m not ready to face the music just yet either—otherwise known as prison.
And even though I’m a bona fide assassin, I haven’t really knocked anyone off the planet just yet. Mostly I just scatter a few bullets here and there, willy-nilly, while my target does a little tap dance, and they quickly come to the conclusion that life would be a whole lot easier—and a whole lot longer—if they just paid my Uncle Jimmy the money they owe him.
“So? What’s it gonna be?” Niki bops my way with her dark hair pulled back into a messy bun and her apron from the Honey Pot Diner in one hand.
“She can’t hear you,” Lily says, helping herself to a chocolate cupcake frosted to look like a turkey. “Effie’s been drifting off and daydreaming all week. She’s probably having steamy thoughts about that hot detective she’s knocking boots with.”
“Ooh.” Suze perks up. “Are you knocking boots already?” She hikes a brow my way and looks as if she’s holding her breath until I pump out a few dirty details her way.
“Nope,” I sag as I say it. “And believe me, I wouldn’t mind. We’re sort of…not on speaking terms at the moment.”
Niki chuckles under her breath. She happens to be in the know when it comes to the fact Cooper has me pegged for the one causing all the near misses around here.
When an entire slew of mob-related injuries started to take place, and most of those men refused to speak to the sheriff’s department or file a complaint, Cooper’s suspicions were aroused.
How he surmised the rest of it, I have no idea. And I don’t want to know. Mostly because I know the end of the story, the part where Cooper gifts me a set of silver bracelets just in time for the holidays.
“What?” Lily squawks as she stomps this way. “What do you mean you’re not on speaking terms?”
Suze waves it off. “Oh, I bet it’s just some silly argument. They’ll get over it. My ex and I used to have them all the time over silly things like the fact fifty thousand dollars evaporated from our savings account and found its way onto a blackjack table somewhere, or which new floozy he was sleeping with, or the fact that man never took out the trash.” She harumphs over that last point as if that were the major contention, and oddly, it seems to be just that.
“It’s nothing that serious,” I say. “I don’t mind taking out the trash. Mostly because Cooper and I don’t live together. Anyway, what’s with the fact everyone is about to come upon some spare cash around here? How are the two of you striking it rich? Did you find a buried treasure map in a cookie jar?”
Lily grins. “Even better. We’re going to see Harmony Honeycutt at the bookshop tonight. Her new book, Dream It, Believe It, Achieve It, is all about manifesting your destiny. We’re going to manifest ourselves a fortune.” She says it so matter-of-fact, I’m almost worried for her.
“That’s right.” Suze nods. “Apparently, she has some magical way of making all your dreams come true and all you need is your noggin. I’m hoping she can help me manifest my way to a winning lottery ticket.”
“Wow, that sounds interesting,” Lottie says, coming out of the kitchen with a tray laden with her new creation, pumpkin spice muffins with cheesecake centers.
Lottie is adorable, somewhere in her late twenties or early thirties, with caramel waves, hazel eyes, and a smile that never stops—unless she’s stumbling over a body. Let’s just say she seems to attract the dead like bears to honey—especially bears in Honey Hollow.
Lucky for me, Lottie lets her staff load up on all the sweet treats we can stomach while we’re working a shift.
Unlucky for Lottie, I can put away a heck of a lot of sweet treats. And even though Lily is pretty petite, she can put the desserts away right there with me. We’re mostly addicted to the crullers, but there’s nothing we consider off the table.
Lottie shrugs over at Lily and Suze. “A little positive thinking never hurt anyone, right? If I wasn’t so busy with the pumpkin pie-eating contest tonight, I’d head down to the bookshop myself. How about you, Effie? You heading over?”
“And that’s what I was asking you.” Niki swats me on the arm with her apron. “Are you manifesting with us tonight or not? I’ve got a few six-foot-three, dark-haired, muscles-for-days, bank-accounts-loaded-to-the-hilt men that I’d like to see materialize.”
Lily laughs. “Come on, Effie, join the club. Suze and I can’t wait to get our hands on Harmony’s new book. Plus, she’s going to give a little dissertation before the signing. If anyone needs to learn how to manifest their destiny, it’s probably you. And that destiny should definitely include knocking boots with Cooper Knox.”
Suze smirks. “Or how about knocking boots with Cooper Knox in the Bahamas? You’ve got to dream big.”
I roll my eyes, unable to hide my amusement. “You guys really believe in all that stuff? Sounds like a bunch of hocus-pocus to me.”
Niki starts in on a spontaneous applause. “That means she’s in. Effie always disguises her interest in things with negativity. It’s the Canelli way.”
“Perfect.” Lottie joins in and claps her hands as well. “And while you’re on your way to the bookshop, I want you all to enjoy the Gobble and Grab Turkey Trot on the way. All of Main Street is handing out samples and having sales right up until Thanksgiving. A bunch of us business owners got together and thought it might be a fun way to drum up a little pre-holiday buzz. Be sure to sample all the goodies you want, but make sure you’re back in time for the pumpkin pie-eating contest at seven, right here in front of the bakery. That’s my contribution to the night’s festivities, and it’s going to be epic.”
“Woo-hoo!” Niki does an odd little jig. “We’re going to see Harmony Honeycutt, and she’s going to make all our wishes come true! And then there’s pie. What more could a girl ask for? Sounds like a dream.”
Why do I have a feeling this night is quickly going to devolve into a nightmare?
Lottie assures us that the kitchen staff can help her with the registers while we’re away and all but shoos the four of us out the door.
We don’t get three steps onto Main Street when I see a couple of all too familiar faces heading my way.
And so the nightmare begins.
Chapter 3
Effie
“Yoo-hoo,” Aunt Cat calls out as she and Carlotta head our way.
“It’s time to make a break for it,” I say as I turn to head in the opposite direction and Niki catches me by the sleeve. Darn sweater weather.
By this time, Lily and Suze are already halfway down Main Street and on their way to the bookshop where some smooth-talking charlatan is about to teach us how to get exactly what we want out of life with nothing more than our good looks—or good thoughts as it were.
The evening air is crisp and the sounds of holiday music and laughter fill the streets. Every shop, light post, and stop sign is strewn with leafy fall garlands, there are wreaths comprised of orange leaves on the windows and doors of every little shop as far as the eye can see, and the twinkle lights that crisscross overhead give all of Honey Hollow a magical appeal.
The Gobble and Grab Turkey Trot is in full swing, with stalls and tables set up along Main Street, each offering samples of Thanksgiving dishes that are already making my mouth water with their savory scents. And the crowds are out in full force because of it. Judging by the elbow-to-elbow room only on the cobbled sidewalks, I’d say all of Vermont has shown up for the yummy treats.
“What’s your hurry?” Aunt Cat calls out as the two of them close in on us.
Both Aunt Cat and Carlotta are somewhere north of sixty. Aunt Cat dyes her locks a harsh shade of jet-black and Carlotta keeps her curls real with enough gray going on, it’s safe to say that’s the primary color.
They’re both wrapped in matching black and white buffalo plaid flannel jackets, and that alone makes them look as if they belong to some weird farmhouse cult.
And another thing they have in common? Their penchant for mischief.
Speaking of mischief, my Uncle Jimmy just so happens to use my Aunt Cat as a carrier pigeon when it comes to giving me my new assignments. And if anyone knows how to take mischief to a whole new level, it’s my uncle—and that level would be called a felony.
“I’ve got another job for you.” Aunt Cat lifts a small white envelope my way and a shiver runs through me.
“Good grief, the fun never ends,” I say as I pluck it from her. “I’ve got half a mind to quit, move back in with my parents, and call it a life.”
Niki shrugs. “Yeah, but it’d be a short life. You’re as good as dead, as is whoever’s name is in that envelope if you decide to shirk your shotgun duties.”
It’s true. Should I back out of the contract I have with my uncle, it will be my name in some other hitman’s envelope.
Face it, I’m bound to a life of crime and it’s my own darn fault.
Me and my big ideas.
Technically, it was the big pink slip I got from the tech firm I was happily accepting a paycheck from that put me in this predicament. That’s why I went to my uncle for help, and he gave me two choices: dance at his strip club or do a little dirty work for him on the side.
I should have strapped on my acrylic high heels and shook my booty with the best of them. Sure, the hours would be a killer, but the tips would keep me in cheeseburgers until the Grim Reaper shows up for that final hot date he’s been threatening.
I always seem to make the wrong decision. It’s the one thing I’m actually pretty good at.
“Go on.” Carlotta nods to the envelope as she rubs her hands together to keep warm—that or because she can’t control her excitement.
I quickly do as I’m told, and soon I’m staring at my uncle’s sloppy handwriting.
“Peter Honeybutt?” I say just above a whisper. “Never heard of him.”
“You mean Peter Honeycutt? I wonder if he’s related to Harmony?” Niki’s eyes enlarge as she quickly whips out her phone and commits a half dozen acts of Google foo.
“Eh.” Carlotta shrugs. “I liked Honeybutt better.”
“You would,” Aunt Cat gruffs at her.
“Don’t sound so judgmental.” Carlotta is quick to elbow her bestie. “You do, too, and you know it.”
“Do I ever.” Aunt Cat elbows her back and the two of them cackle into the night.
Niki gasps at something on her screen—most likely with delight. She’s been a huge supporter of my newfound position as an assassin. Sure my other siblings wouldn’t agree with it if they were in the know, but Niki here has always been my biggest cheerleader. But that doesn’t guarantee she’ll bake me a cake with a knife in it when I’m in the big house.
“Peter Honeycutt is Harmony Honeycutt’s ex-husband,” Niki practically shouts it out as if it were the correct answer on a game show.
Aunt Cat squints our way. “Who’s Harmony?”
“Only the biggest, baddest manifester of dreams this side of the pearly gates,” Niki says, threading her arm through mine. “Come on, ladies. Harmony Honeycutt is giving a lecture at the bookshop on how to make all of our dreams come true, and we’re not going to miss it.”
“I’ll tell you how she made all of her dreams come true,” Carlotta gravels as we start to head down the street. “She handed her husband his walking papers.”
Both she and Aunt Cat cackle up a storm all the way to the bookshop.
If Harmony Honeycutt ever wished her ex was standing in line at the pearly gates, she might actually be cheering me on from the sidelines, too.
But as for Peter Honeycutt, he’s a dead man walking.
***I hope you enjoyed this preview! Thank you for reading!****