Beth Dolgner's Blog

Christie O’Mara is thrilled to finally be living her dream of running her own flower shop. With her grandmother’s legacy guiding her, she sets out to create beautiful floral arrangements and unique gifts for the small town she calls home. But little does she know that her grand opening will be overshadowed by a decades-old murder mystery.

While preparing the shop for its first day of business, Christie stumbles upon a long-lost note hidden within an antique desk. The cryptic message hints at a connection to a murder that took place in the same small town years ago. Intrigued, she begins to dig deeper, hoping to unravel the truth behind the mysterious note while also juggling the demands of her newfound business.

Just as she starts to make progress, Christie receives devastating news: one of her special “flowers with a message” bouquets has been delivered to a customer who is found dead shortly thereafter. Suddenly, her business is under scrutiny, and Christie finds herself at the center of a murder investigation. Determined to clear her name and prove the innocence of her Killer Flowers, she embarks on a quest for the truth with the help of her beloved Aunt Doris and shop cat, Stormy.

KILLER FLOWERS, the first cozy mystery novel in the  Christie’s Flower Shoppe  series by mystery author PJ Peterson.

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KILLER FLOWERS
A Christie’s Flower Shoppe Novel
© 2023 PJ Peterson

CHAPTER ONE

The wind howled outside on Friday afternoon in late October, and the lights flickered off for a moment while Christie O’Mara floated around the flower and gift shop. She flicked an imaginary wisp of dust off an antique cherry writing desk. She straightened a ribbon bow on the gigantic vase of fresh flowers sitting on the glass table next to her order station. A bouquet of balloons danced in front of the fan that she had placed strategically behind the display. 

Christie clasped her hands together and smiled at the transformation before her eyes. She was ready for the grand re-opening the next day of the florist shop which had belonged to her grandma. Because it was the week before Halloween, she had decorated with a ghostly theme using witches and pumpkins against a purple and orange backdrop.

Six weeks ago, her mother had called with the sad news that Grandma Maude O’Mara had died unexpectedly. Christie recalled the many happy hours she had spent helping her grandma and Aunt Doris in the shop, and she grieved the loss of this special person in her life. She was thankful that she had been able to have a long conversation with her a week before her death, not knowing it would be the last.

Christie had spent weekends and summers at the shop. She had been fascinated to learn both the flowers’ names and their meanings. Her aunt, who was actually her great-aunt, her grandmother’s younger sister, had patiently taught Christie how to arrange flowers in beautiful bouquets and displays. One summer, Christie took a class in the Japanese art of ikebana, and reveled in the simple yet elegant designs she learned to create. 

But as a teenager, she had dreamed of living in a big, exciting city and being on her own with a brilliant future in business ahead of her. So, she’d headed out of her small hometown to college and earned a degree in business with a minor in accounting. However, the reality of her job and the big city was something totally different from her fantasy. 

She had been passed over a couple of times for a higher-level position, possibly due to her refusal to get “better acquainted” with her male boss. An attempt to file a sexual harassment suit at her work was strongly discouraged by the company’s head of Human Resources — another male. She had been seriously looking for a position in a new company when she learned of her grandmother’s death.

When her mother called a few weeks later to inform her that if she didn’t want to take over the shop, it would be sold or closed, all those fond memories of their times together in that shop flooded back yet again — but this time with joy. Christie made the decision to leave her job and San Francisco and become a florist shop owner instead. The very next day, she turned in her notice at the furniture store chain where she worked as the lead accountant. 

And now Christie was back in her hometown of White Castle. She looked forward to being her own boss and making her own mark in the world. And there would be no one in her way holding her back. She would have the help of her Aunt Doris, who had been her grandma’s right-hand “man” for years and who was thrilled that Christie would continue the business. Sometimes, Christie thought her aunt was a little goofy, but she certainly knew the language of flowers and was bound to be helpful for continuity with the community when her grandma’s longtime customers came through the door.

Christie would continue the basics of making and selling floral bouquets, of course, but she also planned to expand the gifts section that she thought could use some freshening up. When she surveyed the space, she was intrigued to find a dozen or so pieces of vintage and antique furniture begging to be polished up and displayed. They had been stored in a large closet in the back of the shop. Aunt Doris had told her that Grandma Maude hadn’t gotten around to doing anything with them, although she’d talked about selling the items as another means of bringing in customers and money. It felt good to know she was completing a plan her grandma had not gotten around to fulfilling. 

During the previous week, Christie and her mother had spent several afternoons cleaning up the dainty desks, small tables, and even a tall, freestanding vintage radio. Her mom explained that she had listened to radio shows on it as a child when she visited her own grandparents. She had been enthralled to listen to the stories being told over the air while drinking hot chocolate and eating homemade cookies.

On the eve of the grand reopening, one last piece remained to be readied for sale: the writing desk. It was a lovely piece, and she felt almost sad that she had decided to sell it, but she didn’t have any emotional attachment to it and hoped someone would love it enough to pay its price. She stood next to it with her arms crossed for a moment and took a big breath before doing a final inspection. 

She checked to be sure the legs were secure, polished the entire piece, and pulled out each of the drawers one at a time. She shook out the dust and other bits that had collected over the years of use or disuse. When she inverted the last one, the bottom drawer on the right, she found an envelope taped to the underside. 

Curious, Christie loosened the yellowed tape and carefully lifted the envelope from the drawer’s wooden surface. The envelope read “Missy.” There was no street address. She guessed it must have been given to Missy in person instead of being mailed. The glue had long since dried, so the flap opened readily. She gently removed from the envelope the single piece of fragile stationery embossed with the letter ‘M’ that had been folded in half, and opened it. She read:

My dear Missy,

I hope you will understand that circumstances have arisen that cause me to leave town immediately. I do not know when I can return or if I will ever be able to see you again. 

I hope you will ignore any rumors that I killed anyone. I swear it wasn’t me. There were a bunch of guys involved in the fight, but I didn’t know any of them. Maybe the sheriff will figure out the truth.

B.

She asked herself aloud, “Who are Missy and B? And who died? I wonder if Aunt Doris would know.” She folded the letter and put it back in the envelope, then placed it in the drawer of her work desk. “Maybe she’ll remember how Grandma Maude got this desk, and then we could figure out who Missy was.” 

Christie took one last look around the shop and sighed happily. She picked up her tote bag, an umbrella and the shop keys and went out the back door. As she stepped out, she almost tripped over a black lump in the middle of the single step. “Meow,” the black lump cried as it stood up, arching its back. 

“A kitty! A black kitty,” Christie exclaimed, grinning at the thought of discovering it so close to Halloween. Without any superstitious inclinations, she bent over to get a closer look. “You’re all wet.” She picked up the small cat and went back inside, where she found a towel and dried it off. The kitty started purring and licked Christie’s chin. “I wonder if Grandma had been feeding you, and that’s why you’re hanging out here. Let’s check for cat food in the closet.” Christie checked the cabinet in the bathroom and, sure enough, found a partial bag of cat kibble, confirming her suspicion. She grabbed a couple of plastic flowerpot saucers from the supply cupboard to serve as dishes for food and water. 

Christie stood with her hands on her hips and watched as the cat ate hungrily. She would check around to see if it belonged to someone nearby, but by the way it scarfed down the food, she doubted it had a home. She recalled a favorite mystery series in which a bookstore owner had a cat named Agatha in honor of Agatha Christie. “Hmm. Would you like to be my shop cat? I would expect you to be polite to the customers and clean up after yourself. Of course, that is unless someone else claims you.” She made a mental note to drop by the grocery store in the next block and pick up a litter box and kitty litter. She figured she would be spending more hours at the store than at her home for the first few weeks anyway, and the cat would provide company while she was there.

Her cell phone buzzed in the tote bag sitting on the counter. Aunt Doris’s name popped up. “Hi, Aunt Doris. Hey. Did Grandma feed a black kitty at the shop?”

“Did that scrawny thing show up again? I kept shooing it away, but I know she was sneaking food to it when she didn’t think I would notice.”

Christie chuckled. That sounded like something her grandma would have done. “Yes, it’s probably the same kitty. I thought I would let it be a mascot for the shop. You wouldn’t mind, would you?”

Aunt Doris snorted. “You’re just like your grandmother, you know. She had the softest heart.” Her voice softened. “I don’t mind. It’ll keep us company when business is slow. I suppose you’ve named it already.”

“Not yet, but ‘Stormy’ comes to mind, seeing as it’s a black cat and it’s ‘a dark and stormy night’ outside. I hope Charles Schulz would agree that she fits that line from his Peanuts cartoons.”

“That’s a good name, honey. Are you ready for the big day tomorrow? I saw the event posted on Facebook, and there was a copy of the newspaper notice posted at the pharmacy.”

“As ready as I’m going to be. I thought I’d come over about eight thirty. Can you be here that early?”

“Sure. I’ll bring a coffee urn,” replied her aunt. “I’ve ordered pastries and frosted cookies that say ‘Christie’s’ from the bakery to be delivered when we open. I thought we could have them at the front table where customers sign up for email. I kept telling Maude that she should get modern and do that.”

“Good idea, Auntie. An email list is important these days, even for a small business like the flower shop. I’ve saved a space on the table for the coffee and goodies.” 

“Are you going to leave that cat at the shop alone tonight?”

“I thought I would take the kitty home with me and pick up cat stuff on the way there.” The cat snuggled and purred loudly in Christie’s arms. “I think Stormy likes that idea. She’s already adopted me. See you in the morning.”

“Will do. I’ll keep my fingers crossed that everything goes well for you tomorrow.”

Christie smiled as the call ended. Crossed fingers weren’t her way of handling things. She liked good planning and logical approaches. “I don’t think crossed fingers bring good fortune any more than a black cat crossing my path means bad luck. Right, Stormy?”

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Emily Buchanan has always loved Halloween. It’s the perfect holiday for welcoming guests to Eternal Rest Bed and Breakfast, but this year, someone is carving up more than jack-o’-lanterns.

When a body is found in the pumpkin patch on the town square, Emily learns the victim’s ghost is haunting the crime scene. With the help of her psychic best friend, Sage, Emily will communicate with the victim’s ghost to help catch the killer. Along the way, Emily must confront jealous ex-girlfriends and navigate a bitter family rift as she searches for clues.

And Emily really hopes the clues don’t point to one of her guests, who had a close tie to the victim.

As Oak Hill transforms from a quaint Southern town into a Halloween haven, Emily must rely on the ghosts of Eternal Rest to help her figure out the truth, all while keeping her guests happy and welcoming a new member of the family to her haunted house…

HALLOWEEN VIBES, a standalone novella in the Eternal Rest Bed and Breakfast series by bestselling paranormal cozy mystery author Beth Dolgner. This novella takes place three months after book seven, Quiet Nights. This series is about hope, determination, and friendship… and solving murders with the help of ghosts in a small town in North Georgia.

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Who knew libraries could be so dangerous? When Olivia Kendrick gets her new library card, she also gets a new murder mystery to solve. No one liked Pete Bennett, but someone disliked him enough to leave his headless body stashed among the library’s Halloween decorations.

As Olivia and her supernatural friends at Nightmare Sanctuary Haunted House enjoy their busiest nights of the year, she is determined to find out who wanted to kill the meanest man in the small town of Nightmare.

It turns out to be a very long list.

From a dilapidated RV park to a makeshift haunted house, Olivia collects clues and unearths sinister secrets. Even while she’s handing out candy to trick-or-treaters, Olivia is busy unraveling the real Halloween trick…

HEADLESS AT HALLOWEEN, a novella in the Nightmare, Arizona series by bestselling paranormal cozy mystery author Beth Dolgner. This novella takes place less than a week after book five, Poisoning at the Party. This lighthearted series is about starting over, found family, and solving murders in a quirky old mining town with a secret supernatural community.

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It’s never good when a banshee senses a death on the horizon. When that death coincides with the arrival of a frightening new supernatural creature in Nightmare, Arizona, everyone at Nightmare Sanctuary Haunted House is on high alert.

Olivia Kendrick and her friends just wanted to go shopping at the local antique store. Instead, they wind up embroiled in a murder investigation that hints at some sinister dealings in the old mining town. It seems like everyone had a reason to want the owner of the antique store dead.

While Olivia tracks down clues with the help of her growing conjuring skills, she also makes an important discovery about Damien Shackleford’s supernatural abilities. Will Olivia’s boss be able to use his powers to find his missing father, Baxter? 

Before he can do that, though, Damien will have to keep Olivia safe when she becomes the target for a vengeful suspect…

AXING AT THE ANTIQUE STORE, the seventh novel in the Nightmare, Arizona series by bestselling paranormal cozy mystery author Beth Dolgner.

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I was exactly halfway to work when I felt the first raindrop against my cheek. I looked up at the dark clouds just as a gust of wind ruffled my hair. “Please wait,” I said to the sky.

In answer, three more fat raindrops hit my face in quick succession. 

I should have known better. When I had walked out of my apartment, I had spotted the dark clouds rolling in from the east, and I half turned to go back inside so I could retrieve my car keys. But I had been sitting at my laptop most of the afternoon, and I wanted to move my body a bit.

Plus, it hardly ever rained in the desert. I would be fine, I had told myself. 

By the time I arrived at Nightmare Sanctuary Haunted House, it was nearly dark, even though the sun had just slipped behind the mountains on the horizon. The storm had rolled in quickly, and flashes of lightning illuminated the sky over the weathered stone building while the rain pelted me.

If I hadn’t been soaking wet, I would have stopped to appreciate the spooky ambience of the former hospital building in the middle of a storm.

I paused at the front doors, the portico sheltering me from the rain. A particularly loud clap of thunder sounded as I shook myself like a wet dog, trying to fling off as much water as possible. I even leaned over and gave my shoulder-length auburn hair a squeeze.

With a resigned sigh, I pulled open one of the doors and slipped into the Sanctuary’s entryway. The room had a tall ceiling, and the sweeping staircase on the left side led up to the second floor, where many of my friends lived. 

Justine Abbott was just coming down the stairs, and she stopped short. “Oh, Olivia, you poor thing.”

I grimaced. “Do I look that bad?”

“You look scarier than anything we have inside the haunt.” Even though she was joking, there was also a sympathetic tone to Justine’s voice. She waved a clipboard she had in one hand. “I had you down to work the front door tonight, but I’m going to put you in the lagoon vignette, instead. You can’t work in those clothes.”

I unzipped my light jacket and pressed a hand against the black Nightmare Sanctuary T-shirt I was wearing underneath. It wasn’t as wet as the rest of my outfit, but Justine was right. I needed a complete change of wardrobe.

A shiver worked its way up my spine. I needed to get warm, too. It had been a chilly day, and the cold and wet were going to settle into my bones if I didn’t do something about it. 

Justine was clearly thinking the same thing, because she was on the move again, issuing orders. “First, you’re going to go to the costume room and dry off, then change into your pirate costume. After that, I want you to head to the kitchen and microwave one of the containers of soup.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said with a smile.

“Come on. I’ll walk with you. You can throw those clothes in the dryer, so they’ll be ready to go by the time we close tonight. Didn’t anyone tell you we get a lot of rain in January?”

I fell into step next to Justine as we headed down the hallway that led to the costume room, dining room, and other staff-only areas of the Sanctuary. “No one remembered to give me a ‘how to survive in the desert’ handbook when I arrived in Nightmare.”

Soon, I was in the pirate costume I wore on the nights I was assigned to the lagoon vignette. My long red skirt and matching coat felt blissfully warm and dry, and the black blouse underneath, complete with lacy cuffs, added another welcome layer. There was a hairdryer near the makeup station, so by the time I was finished getting into costume, I was completely dry.

I was still cold, though, so I followed Justine’s advice and made a beeline for the kitchen, which was off the dining room. By then, it was nearly time for that night’s family meeting, and the benches at the long rows of tables were already filling up.

Two minutes later, I was sitting down at one of the benches, too, with a steaming Styrofoam cup of ramen in my hand.

“Not the typical pirate fare,” Theo commented casually in greeting. He flashed me a wide smile.

“Not for a pirate vampire like you, maybe,” I replied. “I got soaked on the walk here tonight.”

Theo nodded knowingly. “The thunder woke me up early. I was going to go out for dinner after work tonight, so I hope the storm blows over.”

Going out for dinner, in Theo’s case, meant mesmerizing a tourist so he could drink their blood. Since his fangs had been filed down by a vampire hunter, he had to use a small knife, but Theo was careful, so his unwitting donors were never in that much danger.

Justine seemed to have been waiting for me to return from the kitchen, because she stepped up to the podium at the far end of the room right then. “It’s raining pretty good right now,” she began, throwing me a wry look, “which means it will probably be a slow night for us. So, make the most of the guests we do have, and scare them so much that they feel justified for coming out in this weather.”

As Justine went on to make a few announcements and to dole out that night’s assignments, I heard the telltale tick-tick-tick of claws against the floor behind me. I turned just in time to see Felipe rise up on his hind legs, his gray leathery snout pointed hopefully toward my face. His muddy front paws were just inches from my coat, and I gently pushed him back down onto all fours. 

“Sorry, Felipe,” I whispered while I stroked his head. “You’re in even worse shape than I was.”

I heard an annoyed tsk and looked up to see Mori, Felipe’s owner, frowning at the chupacabra. “Every time it rains,” she muttered.

Undeterred, Felipe trotted toward her. Mori gathered her golden silk gown and leaned away from him. Her fangs flashed as she pointed a finger at Felipe. “Stay.”

Felipe snorted, turned around, and walked away. I snickered at his defiance, and Mori rolled her intense burnt-orange eyes. 

Justine wrapped up soon after, and everyone rose to get ready for the evening. Since I was already dressed, there wasn’t much I needed to do, so I chatted with Mori for a bit, then slowly made my way to the lagoon vignette. 

Seraphina had beaten me there, and she was swimming somersaults in the glass-fronted water tank that sat next to the prop pirate ship. I walked up to the glass and gave her a wave as her silver siren’s tail flashed in the overhead lights. She blew me a kiss right as the lights blinked three times, then went out entirely. The Sanctuary was open for business.

Unfortunately, Justine’s prediction that the crowds would be low was accurate. Never had I been so bored at the Sanctuary. Guests came through sporadically, with empty stretches in between that lasted as long as seven minutes. I only knew that because I began timing the gaps between guests on my watch.

The sluggish night was a big contrast to the steady stream of people we’d had coming through during the holidays. From just before Christmas until right after New Year’s, we had been slammed every night. The time had flown past, thanks to tourists visiting Nightmare during their holiday break and people in town to see family.

So far, January’s business had been steady. It was still tourist season because southern Arizona weather was mild at that time of year. But, as it turned out, a rainy Wednesday night was not good for business.

Theo and I often played a game with each other, taking bets as to how many people we could make scream, or which one of us could make someone sprint wildly out of the vignette first. Seraphina sometimes joined in, which made it even more fun. Even our game, though, couldn’t keep me from yawning and glancing at my watch every few minutes. 

When I got my break partway through the night, I retreated to the dining room. There was no need to grab my usual snack, since I was still full from the soup, but I did gratefully sit down on a bench. I folded my arms on the table and rested my chin on them.

“You can’t be worn out by the flood of guests,” Mori said as she gracefully sat down across from me. She brought a cup to her lips, and I instinctively averted my eyes. I still wasn’t used to watching the vampires drink blood. 

“I had no idea this job could be so boring,” I intoned. 

“It happens from time to time. Cheer up. Maybe the weather will clear, and tourists will venture out of their hotel rooms.”

Mori’s optimism was all for nothing, though. Once I had finished my break, the night continued to drag. When we finally closed at midnight, I changed back into my own clothes and prepared to make my way home.

Except, when I opened one of the front doors, I could see raindrops illuminated by the light inside the portico. 

I closed the door, turned to my left, and headed down the hallway to Damien Shackleford’s office. I should have stopped by to say hello to him, anyway, I realized as I approached the door. He and I had been spending so much time together lately that I felt like I had just seen him, but in fact, it had been a full day since we had spoken.

The door was shut, so I knocked lightly, and I instantly heard Damien’s muffled voice say, “Come in.”

When I walked in, I saw Damien sitting at his expansive oak desk. He had an elbow propped on it, and his face was resting in his hand. He seemed to be staring intently at a stack of papers.

“Everything okay?” I asked tentatively.

Damien looked up, then sighed and sat back in his chair. He gestured toward the papers. “Just doing research into the supernatural black market.”

I nodded knowingly. We had reason to believe Damien’s father, Baxter, had been abducted because he was a phoenix, and anything phoenix-related—feathers, ashes, and tears included—could fetch a big price on the supernatural community’s underground trading scene.

It was the closest to a lead anyone had gotten since Baxter’s disappearance nearly a year before, but we still weren’t making a lot of headway.

“Do you want to practice?” Damien asked. 

“Actually, I was going to ask for a ride home. It’s still raining out.”

“Of course.”

The question about us practicing hung in the air between us. We had been trying to learn more about Damien’s supernatural abilities, but we hadn’t made any progress in the past month. We were trying to explore his power without the need for him to get upset first—heightened emotions always sparked his abilities—but it was slow-going. In fact, the most we had accomplished lately was Damien sliding a coffee cup across his dining room table.

Damien stood and reached for the gray suit jacket hanging from a coat tree behind his desk. 

“You’ll need more than that,” I warned him.

“I have an umbrella we can share,” he assured me. “Let’s go.”

I turned to walk out just as Fiona rushed in. She was still wearing her costume, a long white gown that made her look every bit the banshee that she was. The diaphanous material seemed to float in her wake as her wide eyes darted between Damien and me.

“Someone is going to die!”

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DIG INTO A SHALLOW GRAVE AND A NEW PARANORMAL COZY MYSTERY SERIES.

Emily Buchanan has always dealt with ghosts at Eternal Rest Bed and Breakfast—after all, it is next to the town’s historic cemetery. When paranormal activity begins to escalate, though, she knows that someone—or something—is desperately trying to communicate. When a body is discovered in a shallow grave, an old town scandal is resurrected, and Emily knows she has to find out what happened if her guests and her ghosts are ever going to get a good night’s sleep.

SWEET DREAMS, the first full-length novel in the new Eternal Rest Bed and Breakfast paranormal cozy mysteries by Beth Dolgner. Set in the rural North Georgia town of Oak Hill, where antiques shopping is a lot more common than murder, Emily Buchanan runs Eternal Rest Bed and Breakfast in a Victorian house built right next to a cemetery. Emily teams up with her best friend and psychic medium Sage Clark and the ghosts of Eternal Rest to solve murders. The only mystery Emily can’t solve is why her late husband’s spirit seems to be trapped between this world and the next.

Get Your Copy Today!

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Olivia Kendrick has déjà vu. The star of Nightmare’s popular Wild West Stunt Show is found dead after a heated argument, and it looks like an animal attack. Olivia knows better, though. The scene is eerily similar to the first murder she ever investigated in Nightmare.

There’s a young new stunt rider eager to take over the starring role, but he’s not the only one with a motive for murder. As clues mount about money problems, old grudges, and unbridled ambition, the suspect list only gets longer.

To make things worse, someone from Olivia’s past unexpectedly shows up in Nightmare, and he’s one of the suspects. The newcomer throws Olivia’s boss, Damien Shackleford, into a psychic crisis. Can Olivia help him control his power before someone gets hurt?
CLAWING AT THE CORRAL, the fifth novel in the Nightmare, Arizona paranormal cozy mystery series by bestselling author Beth Dolgner. This lighthearted series is about starting over, found family, and solving murders in a quirky old mining town with a secret supernatural community.

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Gunnar’s fingers curled around my chin, his claws gently brushing my cheeks. He tilted my head slightly as he gazed at me, his eyes dark against his stone-gray skin. “Look up at me,” he said.

I complied, and Gunnar gave a nod of satisfaction. “I like this length on you, too. These split ends have got to go, though. I’m going to give you a trim, and I’ll add some layers so your hair has a bit more volume.”

“Sounds good to me,” I said as Gunnar picked up a comb and began to run it through my auburn hair. I had kept my hair short when I lived in Nashville, but here in Nightmare, the longer look seemed to suit me better. It was more relaxed, like I was these days.

The scissors looked tiny in Gunnar’s massive hands—or paws, or whatever that part of a gargoyle was supposed to be called—but I trusted him to do a good job. All three of the witches had raved about what a good hairstylist Gunnar was.

“How did you learn to do hair, anyway?” I asked as I watched bits of my own locks fall to the floor. The closest thing Gunnar had to hair was a green sheen all over his body that resembled a thin layer of moss. And it really was all over his body: Gunnar didn’t bother with clothes. He looked like a living statue, albeit one with massive wings.

“I used to live in an old castle in Germany,” Gunnar began. “It had been abandoned, and a few of us supernatural creatures wound up living there. They all had hair, and I hated how unkempt they looked. So, I learned to cut hair so I could keep my friends looking nice.”

I tried to picture Gunnar trimming away in some dark abandoned castle, but it was just too odd.

Which was saying a lot, since at that moment, I was sitting in the dining room of Nightmare Sanctuary Haunted House, a gargoyle was cutting my hair, and a fairy was walking toward our spot in the corner.

“Hey, you two,” Clara said in her childlike voice. Her violet eyes were bright with excitement. “We need to catch up since I’ve been off for a few days. Did you have a nice Thanksgiving, Olivia?”

I had been invited to join the Thanksgiving feast at the Sanctuary, but I had already made other plans. Mama and Benny Dalton, the owners of the motel where I lived, had practically insisted I join them for the holiday.

And, of course, they had also invited their nephew Damien Shackleford, because Mama took every possible chance to get me and my boss in the same room. She really wanted sparks to fly. Romantic sparks, that is. Not the magical kind I was pretty sure Damien would be able to produce if he unleashed his full supernatural potential.

“It was great,” I told Clara honestly. “Mama and Benny are fantastic hosts, and I got to spend a lot of time with Lucy.” Mama and Benny’s granddaughter was only ten, but she was still one of my favorite people in Nightmare. She was the kind of kid who made everyone around her smile, thanks to her enthusiasm and unending energy. “But,” I added, “Mama sent me home with so many leftovers that I’ll be eating turkey until Christmas.”

“That’s nothing,” Clara said. “I ate with my family before the feast here, so my mom insisted that I bring her homemade mugwort biscuits for everyone. And yes, they’re as gross as they sound.”

“I thought they were delicious,” Gunnar said. 

Clara made a gagging noise. Before she wandered off, she said, “The family meeting is in fifteen minutes.”

“Plenty of time,” Gunnar said confidently. In fact, he was finished with time to spare, and I had a chance to admire my trimmed hair in the bathroom mirror before I took my normal spot on one of the long benches in the dining room. I had thanked Gunnar profusely for offering to cut my hair, and even though he had refused to let me pay him, I made a mental note to get him some kind of thank-you gift. 

By the time Justine Abbott stepped up to the podium to start that evening’s family meeting, the rest of the Sanctuary staff had wandered in. We were missing a few people who had gone out of town for Thanksgiving, but it was a Sunday night, so we wouldn’t be too crowded with guests, anyway.

Justine ran down the night’s news and position assignments—I would be taking tickets at the front door, which was one of my usual posts—then her face lit up. “And, as most of you know, this is my favorite time of year! The Nightmare Christmas parade will be in three weeks, so I need all of you to be thinking about ideas for the theme of this year’s float! And no, Theo, Have a Bloody Good Christmas is not going to happen.”

Theo, who was sitting next to me, sighed dramatically. “She says no every year.” 

After the meeting, I was slowly making my way out of the dining room when I saw the three witches walking toward me. The oldest, Morgan, blinked up at me. Her white hair was so wispy it seemed to dance in the air around her wrinkled face. “We had a dream. About you.”

“About love,” added Madge, the beautiful witch who looked like she was in her late twenties or early thirties. She tossed her long blond curls over her shoulder and looked at me sympathetically.

“But you weren’t happy about it, oh, no.” Maida looked to be about the same age as Lucy, but she spoke like someone far older. Her pointed black boots and short black dress made her look more witchy than the others. 

“Be careful with your heart,” Morgan warned me.

Before I could ask what they were talking about, the witches turned in unison and began to walk away. Do they think I’m falling in love with Damien? It was the only explanation I could come up with. He and I had been spending a lot of time together lately, and some of my other friends at the Sanctuary had been joking that there was something going on between the two of us. 

That had to be it. I didn’t bother to run after the witches to assure them I was definitely not falling in love. I hadn’t even been divorced from Mark for a full year, so I wasn’t ready to dive into a new relationship just yet.

As I made my way to the double front doors of the old hospital building that housed Nightmare Sanctuary Haunted House, I wondered just how many people were jumping to conclusions about Damien and me. Yes, we had been spending a lot of time together during the past month, but it wasn’t at all romantic. We were both working on our magic. It had taken me a while to accept I was anything other than ordinary, but I was slowly making progress as a conjuror. 

We still weren’t sure what Damien was capable of. His mother, Lucille, had been an extraordinarily powerful psychic, but we still had no idea what kind of supernatural creature Damien’s father was. Just as soon as we found Baxter, who had been missing since earlier in the year, we would ask him.

Because I had to believe we would find Baxter. Giving up simply wasn’t an option.

There were always a few enthusiastic people lined up before the Sanctuary opened at eight o’clock in the evening. On this night, I propped open the double doors to see a group of what looked like college kids standing at the front of the line. I took their tickets and waved them on inside the entryway, where stanchions had been set up so visitors could wind back and forth between red velvet ropes before entering the haunt through a door at one side of the room.

Gunnar had run back upstairs, where many of the Sanctuary’s employees lived, to put away his hair-cutting tools, and he was just coming down the grand staircase as the college kids made their way toward the haunt entrance. One of the girls let out a yelp, and another said, “Ooh, amazing costume!”

I caught Gunnar’s eye, and we exchanged a smile. I had once said the same thing about him, before I knew supernatural creatures existed. 

October had been incredibly busy, since so many people wanted to visit a haunted house attraction during the Halloween season. November had been slower but still much more steady than the number of visitors we’d had in the late summer. There were a lot fewer tourists in Nightmare during that time of year, when it was just too hot to be hanging out in a desert town.

Saturday night had been busy, and I had recognized a few locals who said they had family in town for Thanksgiving, and going to a haunted attraction was a fun, quirky way to spend time together. Now that it was Sunday, and a lot of people were probably on their way back to their own towns, it was much quieter.

At least until a large group came through, looking like they were going to a rodeo rather than a haunted house. The six men were all wearing Western shirts with mother-of-pearl snaps down the front, and all but one of them was wearing cowboy boots. 

“Hello there,” one of the men, who was quite a bit older than the rest, said to me. I instinctively took half a step back because the man’s gaze was so intense. “You’re new here. We come every year on Thanksgiving weekend, and I’ve never seen you before.”

“She’s been in town a while,” one of the other men said. He had brilliant blue eyes and sandy-blond hair that curled around the nape of his neck. His smile was bright in his tanned face. “Norman, you need to get out more often.”

“Nah, I’m just fine hiding out at my ranch, thank you very much.”

The man at the back of the group let out a loud whoop. “Let’s go, boys. I want to get scared!”

The other five cheered, and as I tore their tickets and let them inside, they were loudly discussing which type of supernatural creature was the most frightening.

They were noisy, but at least they were having a good time.

I was tearing tickets for another group when a wave of cold washed over my shoulders. I turned to see the Sanctuary’s two resident ghosts, Butch Tanner and Connor McCrory, standing behind me. Their ghostly forms shimmered in the dim lighting of the entryway.

“Shouldn’t you be in your vignette, scaring guests?” I asked.

“Yes, we should,” McCrory said, reaching up to tip his black cowboy hat to me. The former sheriff of Nightmare was always polite. “But we overheard some folks who went past us saying they’d spotted Billy the Bull Roper in the parking lot. We came to see if it was true.”

“There he is,” Tanner said, pointing toward the front of the queue inside the entryway. A low whistle sounded from behind the red bandana Tanner wore over his mouth and nose. “I sure wish I could ride a horse as well as that guy.”

“Which one are you talking about? And how do you know he can ride a horse well?” I waved a couple through even as I was turning to look at the rowdy cowboys, who were about to disappear through the door into the haunt.

“The one with the nice hair and the blue plaid shirt,” McCrory specified.

Ah. The one who’s apparently seen me around town.

“As for his skills,” Tanner said, “Zach was once nice enough to take us to the Wild West Stunt Show out on the edge of Nightmare.”

“At Norman O’Reilly’s ranch,” McCrory added.

“Did other people in the audience wonder why two ghosts were there?” I asked.

“Nah.” Tanner waved dismissively. “We went to the matinee, and we’re pretty invisible in bright daylight. We gave a few folks cold chills, but that’s all.”

The ghosts drifted away, since the person they had come to see had entered the haunt, and I knew they would be looking forward to trying to scare Billy the Bull Roper when he and his friends entered the vignette where Tanner and McCrory were stationed.

After work, I tried to drop into Damien’s office to say hello, but the door was shut, and I could hear several voices inside. Since he was busy, I decided to head home. I had driven to work that night, rather than walking, since I had brought a plate of leftovers to snack on during my break, so I made my way toward the staff parking area.

I had to pass the visitor parking lot, which was really just a dirt field, to get to my car. The lot was nearly empty, but the six cowboys who had come through earlier in the night were standing in a group in front of several cars.

“I’d rather die than share the starring role with somebody!” I heard Billy shout.

The older man who had greeted me with such intensity leaned toward Billy. “We don’t have a choice!”

Billy crossed his arms and glared at the man. “Well, don’t blame me if he accidentally falls off his horse!”

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Murder hits close to home for Olivia Kendrick when her annoying neighbor at Cowboy’s Corral Motor Lodge turns up dead. Did one of the other guests hold a grudge against Leonard Evers?

Even while she’s eyeing a few shady suspects, Olivia can’t help but blame herself. Maybe she really is a conjuror, and maybe she accidentally killed her downstairs neighbor with magic.

With the help of her supernatural friends at Nightmare Sanctuary Haunted House, Olivia will spy on a plumber, get an eerie prediction from a psychic, and face veiled threats.

At the same time, Olivia’s jerk boss, Damien Shackleford, learns a secret that will change the way he thinks of his family forever. Olivia must help Damien deal with the life-altering news, even while she tries to find the killer…

MURDER AT THE MOTEL, the fourth novel in the Nightmare, Arizona paranormal cozy mystery series by bestselling author Beth Dolgner. This lighthearted series is about starting over, found family, and solving murders in a quirky old mining town with a secret supernatural community.

A DEAD WOMAN ON A BEACH HAS NO ID – JUST A BEAUTIFUL NECKLACE AND A SILVER SLIPPER LYING NEARBY IN THE SAND…

Julia Fairchild, MD, and her sister Carly go on a carefree vacation in the British Virgin Islands, but soon get pulled into the mystery of a murdered Jane Doe whose body lies on a huge rock on an isolated beach. No strangers to crime, the sisters offer their help and expertise to the baffled local investigators who reluctantly agree.

Upon closer examination of the mystifying case, they encounter endless twists and dead ends. Eventually the evidence they discover leads them to the nearby set of a pirate movie, but how does a corpse connect to a bunch of pretend buccaneers? Can the sisters unravel the mystery in time to nail a killer, or will they be the next cadavers to turn up on the sand?

SILENT SLIPPER, the fifth standalone novel in the Julia Fairchild series by mystery author PJ Peterson.

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November 17th & 18th Only!

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November 15-30, 2023

Check in for your stay at Eternal Rest Bed and Breakfast with this paranormal cozy mystery box set featuring books 1-7! Eternal Rest welcomes both guests and ghosts, and it has a great view of the historic cemetery next door.

One part Murder, She Wrote and one part Ghost Whisperer, this lighthearted series will transport you to the small town of Oak Hill, Georgia, where you’ll find sweet tea, biscuits, and murder. Emily Buchanan, the owner of Eternal Rest Bed and Breakfast, teams up with her psychic best friend, Sage, to solve each case in the seven-book series. Of course, the ghosts they encounter are eager to help, too!

Along the way, Emily will also keep searching for answers about the mysterious car crash that left her widowed and alone. She’s convinced Scott’s ghost must be nearby, but why hasn’t he made contact?

Book 1: Sweet Dreams
There’s a body in the cemetery that shouldn’t be there, and a new ghost at Eternal Rest won’t leave Emily’s handsome new assistant alone.

Book 2: Late Checkout
Jaxon Knight-MacGinn is the biggest jerk to ever check into Eternal Rest, but his stay is cut short when he’s found dead at an abandoned hotel. Too bad his ghost is still haunting Emily.

Book 3: Picture Perfect
The Oak Hill Arts Festival takes a sinister turn when one of the artists is killed in his booth. Emily suspects one of her guests might have gotten artistic with murder.

Book 4: Scenic Views
Emily realizes she bought more than a mirror when she finds herself face-to-face with a ghost trapped inside it. Can she help the spectral resident find peace?

Book 5: Breakfast Included
Emily’s dear friend Trish is a suspect after her biscuits kill a local food critic. Either Trish is being framed, or she didn’t like the bad review of her bakery.

Book 6: Groups Welcome
A coven of witches arrives, bringing along a huge surprise for Emily. When one of the witches turns up dead, Emily has a houseful of suspects, and every one of them is pointing their wand at someone else.

Book 7: Quiet Nights
A celebrity psychic and her entourage arrive at Eternal Rest, and Emily learns just how deadly their petty drama really is. Even while solving a murder, Emily finally gets all the answers about Scott’s death.

Each book in the Eternal Rest Bed and Breakfast series is as standalone murder mystery. This seven-book series is about hope, determination, and friendship… and solving murders with the help of ghosts in a small town in North Georgia.

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HAVE GUESTS BROUGHT MORE THAN LUGGAGE TO ETERNAL REST BED AND BREAKFAST?

When weekend guests check in at Eternal Rest Bed and Breakfast, paranormal activity begins to escalate. Is there another ghost haunting the Victorian home? Emily Buchanan doesn’t mind having yet another ghost as a permanent guest, but she is eager to find out who it is and what they want.

Emily’s best friend, Sage Clark, hosts a séance to contact the new ghost. Emily hopes it is her late husband, returning to Eternal Rest to watch over her. But the truth is even more unexpected…

Quality Service is a short story set six months before the beginning of Sweet Dreams, the first book in the Eternal Rest Bed and Breakfast paranormal cozy mystery series. In the small town of Oak Hill, Georgia, Emily and Sage team up with ghosts to solve murders in this lighthearted series about love, friendship and living… even if it’s living with the dead.

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