I’ve got a massive backlist out there, but I’m focusing mostly on my indie releases now, which a lot of my readers haven’t heard of yet. So we’re going to be putting up excerpts of the indie work I’ve done—both full length and short collections, each Wednesday, to encourage you to give my new work a try.
Today’s excerpt comes from Murder Under a Mystic Moon.
Series Page: Chintz ‘n China series
Book Page to find buy links: Murder Under a Mystic Moon
By the time I’d managed to shake off the memories of being encrusted from head to toe with forest mulch while welting up from a nasty patch of stinging nettles, it was too late to start any seedlings. Now though, I was determined to get the beds ready and then, in a month—or whenever my neighbor Horvald Ledbetter told me to—I’d plant a bevy of spring bulbs for next year. Tulip lovers of the world unite!
My knees pressed into the soft dirt as I stabbed a particularly tenacious dandelion with my trowel. “Sheesh, these things don’t want to give up!” I finally edged the tip of the garden tool under the root and pried until I’d dislodged the tuberous plant enough to yank the whole thing out.
Frustrated, I tossed the trowel aside. “Time for a break.” Leaning back onto the warm, soft grass, I stared at the clouds that wandered across the evening sky. There went a sinuous sea monster, and there, a griffin. Thoughts of sea creatures and legendary beasties brought me back to my conversation with Jimbo.
“Mur, have you heard of the Klakatat Monster?” I glanced over to where she lay, sprawled out on her stomach, face down in the grass. I leaned over and poked her gently in the side. “Hey, you awake?”
She grunted. Anna Murray was my best friend. One of two, actually. We’d known each other since high school and had been roommates during our college years. A detective with the Chiqetaw Police, she was carving a niche for herself in a department headed by a man who didn’t particularly welcome Native Americans or women.