By Tamar Myers
Abigail Timberlake Washburn could otherwise be at any place else on a muggy Charleston summer season night -- even putting in place additional hours at her antiques store -- than at a séance. yet her ally, "Calamity Jane," thinks a spirit -- or "Apparition American," as ectoplasmically-correct Abby places it -- lurks within the eighteenth-century Georgian mansion, whole with worthy, seventeenth-century Portuguese kitchen tiles, that C.J. simply received as a fixer-upper. fortunately, Abby's mama positioned a psychic within the phone book -- a undeniable Madame Woo-Woo -- and, including a motley workforce of feisty retirees often called the "Heavenly Hustlers," all of them get right down to supply an undesirable spook the heave-ho. yet, for all her extrasensory talents, the Madame did not foresee that she, herself, will be compelled over to the opposite facet in advance. without warning Abby fears there is greater than a specter haunting C.J. And they’d higher exorcise a flesh-and-blood killer quickly sooner than the lately departed Woo-Woo will get corporation.
Read or Download Tiles and Tribulations (Den of Antiquity Mysteries) PDF
Best women sleuths books
Up north, the summers are short -- and wintry weather, like loss of life, is chilly and lengthy . . . recuperating from knee surgical procedure that may reason her to overlook the impending dogsled racing season, champion ''musher'' Jessie Arnold feels empty and bored -- so she grabs a chance to fill her days manning the Iditarod sales space on the Alaska nation reasonable.
Skeleton Canyon: A Joanna Brady Mystery
A chilling tale of lethal hope and chilly homicide from manhattan occasions bestselling writer J. A. JanceA beautiful, renowned teen by no means lower back from her mystery tryst in Skeleton Canyon. might be it used to be younger rage or savage ardour that ripped the existence from a toddler of privilege and deserted her damaged physique to the chilly Arizona evening.
In a suspense novel of mind-blowing energy and intensity, Jodi Compton unleashes a haunting story of secrets and techniques and betrayal. .. and of 1 woman's look for her lacking husband that spirals right into a darkish trip strewn with sour truths and damged lives. the following debut novelist Compton introduces a rare personality: Detective Sarah Pribek, a girl of power, complexity, and intuition, a girl stuck in an incredible nightmare.
A secret surfaces in the back of the partitions within the new selfmade sequence. Avery Baker and her boyfriend, Derek Ellis, are flipping a heavily stigmatized apartment rumored to have ghosts. quickly they are going to have even higher problems-and this upkeep venture may hang-out them perpetually.
- Murder in Montmartre
- Monkey See, Monkey Die
- Civil Twilight: A Darcy Lott Mystery
- At-Risk
- The Quick and the Thread: An Embroidery Mystery
- Wreck the Halls
Extra resources for Tiles and Tribulations (Den of Antiquity Mysteries)
Sample text
I felt like an actor who’d forgotten her lines and had to ad lib. “Would either of you like something to eat? There are still some ham biscuits left, and hardly anyone touched the cake. ” “Cake would be nice,” Greg said. J. planned to turn into a breakfast nook. Originally the space had been a butler’s pantry, and there was evidence to suggest it may have started out as an oversized, manually operated lift. Charleston homes are subject to flooding, and many are built a full story off 54 Ta m a r M y e r s the ground.
Hugh Riffle, who sold dead celebrities’ cars for a living, had the pallor of cottage cheese. ” Madame Woo-Woo’s forehead formed furrows so deep I heard the melodic tones of Mandarin emanating from one of them. She stared at the glass in the center of the table. ” Sondra Riffle gasped. ” Ella Nolte rolled her eyes. “Why, that’s just ridiculous. Ghosts—if they exist—are just confused souls who haven’t realized yet that they’re dead. They’re not out to get anyone. In my latest book, Give Us This Day Our Daily Dead, I have a character—” Madame Woo-Woo’s glare cut Ella Nolte’s selfpromotion short.
Madame Woo-Woo was far too angry to shoot mere daggers at us. She shot full-length hari-kari swords, daring us to eviscerate ourselves if we said another word. We hung our heads in shame and closed our eyes again. “Very well,” she growled. “I will give it one last try. But if I hear one word”—she paused to toss me another sword—“I’m out of here. ” We nodded mutely. At last, the séance could begin. 5 I peaked again through lacquered lashes. Sure enough, Madame Woo-Woo’s black claws were sliding under the table.