Book Description
My name is Lottie Lemon, and I see dead people. Okay, so I rarely see dead people. Mostly I see furry creatures of the dearly departed variety, aka dead pets who have come back from the other side to warn me of their previous owner’s impending doom.
The baby is here and all is revealed regarding its paternity—and a killer is taunting me to reveal them, too. And have I mentioned there’s a woman who looks all too familiar stalking me? Throw in a couple of mob bosses, my own paternity debate, and a plethora of professional hits for hire and you’ve got one too many ingredients for my sanity to deal with. And let’s not forget that body. I might be whipping up my famous chocolate chip cookies for the entire town to enjoy, but unbeknownst to me—there’s murder in the mix.
Lottie Lemon has a brand new bakery to tend to, a budding romance with perhaps one too many suitors, and she has the supernatural ability to see the dead—which are always harbingers for ominous things to come. Throw in the occasional ghost of the human variety, a string of murders, and her insatiable thirst for justice, and you’ll have more chaos than you know what to do with.
Living in the small town of Honey Hollow can be murder.
Everett
I just made a deal with the devil.
Manny Moretti? Really? That’s how low I had to stoop?
The halls of Honey Hollow General Hospital hum at this early morning hour, just a little after four in the morning, but it might as well be high noon with the adrenaline coursing through my veins.
Lemon asked for a snack, so I ran down and drained the vending machines of all their offerings—right after I sold my soul to Manny Moretti.
I try to push it out of my mind for now. It’s an ungodly hour, and Lemon just had the baby. That’s where my focus needs to be. She needs rest. With me in the room, Lemon can finally get some sleep while I watch over the baby—my baby. Even though the jury is still out on that one, either way, that sweet little girl is mine.
But the fact I was forced to fork over some cold, hard cash to a mobster in the parking lot just now? That’s all Noah’s doing. If he hadn’t talked Lemon into moving that body from the morgue—
A heavy sigh comes from me.
Fine.
Noah may have gotten the ball rolling, but I was free to remove myself from the situation at any given point. But I couldn’t. Because Lemon wouldn’t. And I’d move the planet right out of the solar system if she wanted me to do it.
That night—because Noah damn well instructed Lemon to go ahead with the corpse heist—we found ourselves in a morgue stealing Florenza Canelli’s body.
Of course, you could argue that technically Florenza herself was to blame. She did come back from the other side and pitched a fit about the potential color of her casket, threatened to have my judicial career yanked from underneath me, pin me for a money-laundering scheme that involved Lemon’s bakery, and keep Noah and the rest of the Ashford County Sheriff’s Department in the dark about an upcoming mob war. So I get it.
Noah wanted to do the right thing and stop the bloodbath that was about to ensue. And Lemon told Flo we’d comply. But regardless, that mob bloodbath happened, and it almost took out Noah in the process. The bakery came out unscathed, but I sure as heck had my judicial seat yanked from underneath me. And now I’m walking into another trial—not as the judge, but as the defendant—all because I happened to stare right into a hidden camera that night at the morgue.
Let’s hope that little sleepwalking defense Noah dreamed up actually works. If not, my days with Lemon, along with both of my daughters, are numbered.
From my chambers to a prison cell. My, how the mighty have fallen.
I make the final turn down the corridor and freeze at the sight before me.
Lemon stands outside of her room, one hand pressed against the door as if she were shutting it while trying to be discreet. She’s fully dressed in a wool coat, jeans peering out from underneath, and I inch my head back as I try to make sense of it all.
Did Noah come back with those clothes?
Is she leaving with the baby? Is she leaving without the baby?
Her hair looks darker, a little longer—and then it hits me. It’s that woman we’ve been seeing everywhere—the one stalking us at every turn.
I drop the armload of snacks and speed in her direction.
The woman jumps back with a look of horror as she turns my way.
Same face and same eyes as Lemon.
She turns to bolt, and I catch her by the wrist.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
She takes a sharp breath, her eyes bulging wide with fear.
A rustling sound emits from my left before I can ask the woman a single question.
“Hang on, Sexy!” Carlotta shouts as she barrels down the hall, nearly tripping over what looks to be a pile of clothes in her arms. “I tried to get you to slow down out in front of the lobby!” she shouts as she staggers this way. “I’ve got Lot Lot’s clothes. Foxy’s taking a quick shower, and I just had to get one more sneak peek of that little whippersnap—”
The woman gasps as soon as she spots Carlotta, and Carlotta stops dead in her tracks about fifteen feet from ground zero.
“What the hell is going on?” I thunder as I look back at Carlotta.
The woman slips her wrist from my grip and bolts down the hall then right down the stairs like a jag of lightning.
Carlotta’s mouth falls open as she staggers backward.
“Who is she?” My voice is loud and rough as I stare, wild-eyed, at this older version of Lemon. “That look on your face, on hers. You know each other. Is she a sister? A cousin?” And then it hits me. “My God, she’s your kid, isn’t she?”
Carlotta sets the clothes in her arms down on a chair nearby and bolts for the stairs just like the woman did before her.
My heart thumps out of control as I try to wrap my mind around what’s just happened, what’s still happening.
I pick up the clothes and a couple of bags of cookies that happened to land on the chair as well. My feet carry me right back to the door to Lemon’s room and I pause.
There’s no way I’m mentioning anything that just transpired to Lemon. There’s no reason for her to worry about the Morettis, that woman who almost stepped into her room and did God knows what, or the fact Carlotta has been apprised of exactly who that mystery woman has been this entire time.
Nope.
The only thing Lemon needs to worry about is keeping our sweet little Lyla Nell comfortable.
I’ll keep them safe.
My upcoming trial wanders through my mind and I wonder if I’m capable of keeping anyone safe, least of all myself.
I take a deep breath before opening the door and heading on in.
Right now, I’m glad to take the spotlight off myself and put it where it belongs, over Lemon and Lyla Nell.
Lottie
My name is Lottie Lemon, and I see dead people. Okay, so rarely do I see dead people. Mostly I see furry creatures of the dearly departed variety who have come back from the other side to warn me of their previous owner’s impending doom. But right now, the only thing I’m seeing is my sweet little sugar cookie who finally made her debut, precious Lyla Nell.