by Susan Harper
She sighed and leaned back in her seat. It was going to be a long flight. She drifted off to sleep shortly after takeoff, dreaming about sipping a Mai Tai on a beach while enjoying a beautiful Hawaiian sunset. What could possibly go wrong?
Thanks for reading A Killing in Kenya. I hope you enjoyed reading the story as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you did, it would be awesome if you left a review for me on Amazon and/or Goodreads.
Be sure to check out the next book in the series, Homicide in Hawaii. In this story, Kendell and Pauline head to Hawaii to relax on the white sand beaches. When a local surfer winds up dead, they get pulled into another mystery (it wouldn’t be a cozy mystery otherwise). It launches on March 21, but you can buy it now and it will automatically be delivered to you on launch day.
Get Homicide in Hawaii here: amazon.com/dp/B079VWRHB1
At the very end of the book, I have included a couple previews of books. First is a preview of Dying for a Drive - it’s the first book in my popular Senoia Cozy Mystery series. Second is a preview of Up in Smoke by Shannon VanBergen - it’s the first book in the Glock Grannies Cozy Mystery series. I really hope you like the samples. If you do, both books are available on Amazon.
Get Dying for a Drive here: amazon.com/dp/B01N4TEYQY
Get Up in Smoke here: amazon.com/dp/B06XHKYRRX
If you would like to know about future cozy mysteries by me and the other authors at Fairfield Publishing, make sure to sign up for our Cozy Mystery Newsletter. We will send you our FREE Cozy Mystery Starter Library just for signing up. All the details are on the next page.
FAIRFIELD COZY MYSTERY NEWSLETTER
Make sure you sign up for the Fairfield Cozy Mystery Newsletter so you can keep up with our latest releases. When you sign up, we will send you our FREE Cozy Mystery Starter Library!
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Preview: Dying for a Drive
The crisp air tickled Felicity’s nose, so she bundled up tight as she headed out of Senoia Coffee on the corner, gripping her hot chocolate. It was still early fall, which was rare to be chilly so soon in Georgia, but an unexpected cold front had come in. She smiled as she went out to the street and could see all of the classic cars getting ready for the event. Everything was running smoothly, and Wanda seemed to be smiling her approval as the two women walked up the sidewalk together back toward Overton’s Events, which had become the headquarters for the car show’s event planning.
Felicity smiled when she saw Jefferson speaking with a customer while a few of the car owners waited patiently for his attention. He was keeping a steady eye on the hustle going on around him while maintaining an upbeat smile for the curious patron. Not wanting to break his rhythm, she plopped the second cup of hot chocolate she had bought on the counter beside him and he nodded his thanks. She got to work addressing any concerns of the car owners. There were a few complaints about spacing and crowds but nothing she couldn’t handle thanks to the notes Wanda had given. They were so detailed that Felicity was prepared for just about anything, and all the participants, from the overly gracious to hilariously stubborn, performed just as expected. Soon she was back in the street again after a solid “Good job” was thrown her way from Wanda, who headed in the opposite direction to help finish putting out signs.
Soon the event was underway, and the streets were lined with people who had come to gawk at the cars. She headed toward the gazebo where the out-of-towner, Charles, had parked his Cobra. The old car was a beautiful metallic red that glinted pristinely in the sunlight. Charles had opted out of having a show tent so the buyer could see how the sun hit the car. As she walked over, she could see Charles polishing it for what had to be the third time since he’d driven up that morning, and he was doing so with a cigar dangling awkwardly from his lips to avoid getting ash on the paint.
“So have you sold it yet?” Felicity asked as she came upon the older gentleman. Charles made her slightly uncomfortable. When she’d met him that morning to go over the details of the event, she’d tried her hardest to be professional, but the old man’s gaze had barely made it above her neckline and he had thrown her a compliment about her chest she’d rather never hear repeated. He took a long drag of his cigar and leaned against the hood, eyeing her lewdly. The man had to be at least sixty-five, but that certainly did not stop him from eyeing any female who passed him by with an immodest gaze.
“Maybe,” he huffed, looking slightly annoyed as a young man walked around from the back of the vehicle.
“Maybe is right,” the young man said, and Felicity grinned.
“Adam,” Felicity said. “So you’re the mysterious car-buyer?”
Adam Fao was a local, and she knew him well. He came from old money, and everyone in town knew he had finally taken over his father’s finances after a long court battle with some distant relatives who tried to claim the older Fao had attempted to leave them oodles of cash. It had of course been a lie, and it had driven Adam mad the past several months. He hadn’t even dealt with burying his father before he was suddenly embroiled in a battle for everything he’d ever owned. It was a shame, really, how many family members came out of the woodwork when a relative died just to try to collect some money. Adam, his father’s only child, had of course received his father’s inheritance. Adam’s father had always been a fan of the car show, often buying cars and showing them off the next year with his own restorations. He even made a hefty donation to keep the event going, and it looked like his son was continuing the tradition.
Adam smiled. “Who else around here do you think would want to buy something like this?” He laughed slightly. He was dressed in a Led Zeppelin t-shirt and blue jeans; that was something that certainly made him different from the older Fao. Felicity could not remember ever seeing Adam’s father in anything other than a suit. Adam grabbed at the hem of his shirt and pulled it down. “Look,” he said. Felicity could see a large gob of oil soaking Adam’s t-shirt.
“Yikes,” she said.
“Don’t encourage him,” Charles said. “It’s an old car. Old cars leak.”
“I’m amazed you were able to get it here from Florida,” Adam said; he sounded slightly annoyed. “I’m sorry, but I am not paying this much for a car that has issues. Not the amount we discussed, at least.”
“I didn’t drive all the way from Panama for you to tell me you changed your mind,” Charles retorted, eyeing the young man reproachfully.
“Dad.” A young man hopped out of the passenger’s seat. Instantly, Felicity could see the resemblance to Charles. The young man was in his thirties, and wore the same scowl as his father. “You can’t sell him a car with problems. We didn’t know it had a leak, all right? We’ll be in town for a few days. We can hire a mechanic and fix it up.”
“It wasn’t leaking yesterday,” Charles spat.
“Well, it is now,” Adam rebuked and attempted to clean the oil off his shirt. “It’s just an oil leak. Have someone look into it, and then we can talk.”
Charles’s son nodded. “That’s perfectly reasonable,” he said and glared at his father. Charles glared back and harrumphed while walking behind the Cobra, grumbling to himself about spoiled rich kids and ungrateful sons. The young man rolled his eyes and looked at Felicity. “I’m Brandon Jones, by the way. I think we talked on the phone last week about the car.”
Felicity stuck her hand out. “Yes, I remember,” she said as they shook hands. She took a moment to look him up and down and realized just how much like his father he really did look. She considered mentioning it, but before she could say much more, shouting was suddenly heard from the gazebo. She glanced up to see two local women, Monica Barns and Jesse Timid, going back and forth. She couldn’t make out everything they were saying with them screaming over each other, but what she could hear was pretty colorful to say the least. She put her hands on her hips, ready to go settle whatever feud had started.
>
“They’re at it again, huh?” Charles laughed, nudging his son.
“Shut up,” Brandon snapped, the scowl etching itself deeper into his brow. He exhaled with exasperation and started toward the women. He waved a hand toward Felicity. “Don’t worry, I’ll settle them down.”
Adam rolled his eyes and hooked his arm into Felicity’s. “Come on, let the circus clowns handle this. Trust me, you don’t want to get into the middle of this one. Show me your shop; I haven’t seen it yet.” He marched her away from Charles, who was laughing while puffing on his cigar.
She walked with Adam, but she unhooked arms as she glanced over her shoulder. “What’s wrong with Monica and Jesse?” She wasn’t majorly concerned, but she had a journalist’s ear for gossip. Besides, the two women had gotten particularly vicious, and if they kept it up, the cars weren’t going to be the only spectacle today.
Adam laughed. “Do you really want to know?”
“Kind of,” Felicity said with a grin, sensing something juicy was amiss.
“That old creep, Charles Jones, catfished them both and they’re ticked off,” Adam said.
“Catfished?” Felicity questioned.
“You know, catfished. It’s when you pretend to be someone online that you’re not. He was chatting it up with them both, flirting and talking about how much money he had. Acting like some hot, young bigshot from Florida. Then he shows up, and, well, he’s just an old creep pitting two old friends against each other. When he wasn’t some sexy thirty-something, they both got mad at him and at each other. Apparently, they’ve been fighting for weeks over him, and now that he’s here… Well, you can imagine they’re pretty disappointed to realize they’ve been sexting with some creepy old pervert.”
“Seriously? What kind of person does that?” Felicity questioned. “Monica and Jesse, I don’t know them well, but they’re pretty close friends, right? Why are they even fighting, though? It seems like they should be mad at Charles, not each other.”
“I think they’re fighting over Brandon,” Adam said with a snort.
“For crying out loud!” Felicity laughed. Some people never ceased to amaze her.
After giving Adam a tour of the shop and then spending some time checking in on all of the car owners and speaking with Wanda about how the event was going, Felicity found herself heading back to the shop just as Jefferson was exiting.
He smiled and stopped her. “Time for a break,” he said with a wink, letting her know he had someone inside watching the counter.
“A break? I don’t have time for a break, Jeffrey,” she asserted, but he marched her across the street toward the local ice cream shop.
“Oh, yes, you do. You’ve been on your feet all morning. You can take a ten-minute break and let me buy you some ice cream. Besides, while you’ve been running around, I’ve booked us two new events, and I say that’s cause for celebration,” he said and walked with a slight skip.
“Jefferson, that’s great!” she said.
The next thing she knew, they were sitting outside in front of the ice cream shop next to the elevator that led out into the street. The elevator let people into the office buildings on the second and third floor as well as into the basement area where a locally-owned Irish pub operated. The two of them sat together people-watching the crowd who had come out to enjoy the car show. “This event turned out really well,” Jefferson said. “This is the most crowded I’ve ever seen the car show. You did good, Felicity.”
“Thanks,” she said and licked her ice cream cone. The cold wind that had been present that morning was gone, and the sun now beamed down on them. Autumn was like that in Georgia. The mornings were boots and scarf weather while come noon it was blistering hot, and you were wishing you had dressed a lot lighter while you ate your ice cream like it was mid-June.
“You always do a good job,” he added. “Seriously, Felicity, you’re amazing. I don’t know anyone else who could handle this job better than you.” There was a shyness about Jefferson that day that Felicity hadn’t noticed before. She couldn’t figure out exactly what had him so flustered. “Listen,” he said firmly. “I have been wanting to ask you—”
A loud scream made both of them jolt in their seats. A woman ran toward them from the elevator, her arms and legs shaking. “Call 911!” she shrieked, her eyes darting toward Jefferson, who had jumped up at the sound of the scream.
Felicity stood as well, and she couldn’t help but glance toward the elevator from where the woman had fled. Through the glass door that led to the elevator, Felicity could see inside the opened door on the other side. There was a man lying completely motionless on the floor inside. For a brief second she thought she recognized the face of the man, but before she had time to react, the elevator doors shut and he was gone.
Thanks for reading a sample of my book, Dying for a Drive. I really hope you liked it. You can read the rest at:
amazon.com/dp/B01N4TEYQY
Make sure you turn to the next page for the preview of Up in Smoke: A Glock Grannies Cozy Mystery.
Preview: Up in Smoke
I could feel my hair puffing up like cotton candy in the humidity as I stepped outside the Miami airport. I pushed a sticky strand from my face, and I wished for a minute that it were a cheerful pink instead of dirty blond, just to complete the illusion.
“Thank you so much for picking me up from the airport.” I smiled at the sprightly old lady I was struggling to keep up with. “But why did you say my grandmother couldn’t pick me up?”
“I didn’t say.” She turned and gave me a toothy grin—clearly none of them original—and winked. “I parked over here.”
When we got to her car, she opened the trunk and threw in the sign she had been holding when she met me in baggage claim. The letters were done in gold glitter glue and she had drawn flowers with markers all around the edges. My name “Nikki Rae Parker” flashed when the sun reflected off of them, temporarily blinding me.
“I can tell you put a lot of work into that sign.” I carefully put my luggage to the side of it, making sure not to touch her sign—partially because I didn’t want to crush it and partially because it didn’t look like the glue had dried yet.
“Well, your grandmother didn’t give me much time to make it. I only had about ten minutes.” She glanced at the sign proudly before closing the trunk. She looked me in the eyes. “Let’s get on the road. We can chit chat in the car.”
With that, she climbed in and clicked on her seat belt. As I got in, she was applying a thick coat of bright red lipstick while looking in the rearview mirror. “Gotta look sharp in case we get pulled over.” She winked again, her heavily wrinkled eyelid looking like it thought about staying closed before it sprung back up again.
I thought about her words for a moment. She must get pulled over a lot, I thought. Poor old lady. I could picture her going ten miles an hour while the rest of Miami flew by her.
“Better buckle up.” She pinched her lips together before blotting them slightly on a tissue. She smiled at me and for a moment, I was jealous of her pouty lips, every line filled in by layers and layers of red.
I did as I was told and buckled my seat belt before I sunk down into her caramel leather seats. I was exhausted, both physically and mentally, from the trip. I closed my eyes and tried to forget my troubles, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly to give all my worry and fear ample time to escape my body. For the first time since I had made the decision to come here, I felt at peace. Unfortunately, it was short-lived.
The sound of squealing tires filled the air and my eyes flung open to see this old lady zigzagging through the parking garage. She took the turns without hitting the brakes, hugging each curve like a racecar driver. When we exited the garage and turned onto the street, she broke out in laughter. “That’s my favorite part!”
I tugged my seat belt to make sure it was on tight. This was not going to be the relaxing drive I had thought it would be.
We hit the highway an
d I felt like I was in an arcade game. She wove in and out of traffic at a speed I was sure matched her old age.
“Ya know, the older I get the worse other people drive.” She took one hand off the wheel and started to rummage through her purse, which sat between us.
“Um, can I help you with something?” My nerves were starting to get the best of me as her eyes were focused more on her purse than the road.
“Oh no, I’ve got it. I’m sure it’s in here somewhere.” She dug a little more, pulling out a package of AA batteries and then a ham sandwich.
Brake lights lit up in front of us and I screamed, bracing myself for impact. The old woman glanced up and pulled the car to the left in a quick jerk before returning to her purse. Horns blared from behind us.
“There it is!” She pulled out a package of wintergreen Life Savers. “Do you want one?”
“No, thank you.” I could barely get the words out.
“I learned a long time ago that it was easier if I just drove and did my thing instead of worrying about what all the other drivers were doing. It’s easier for them to get out of my way instead of me getting out of theirs. My reflexes aren’t what they used to be.” She popped a mint in her mouth and smiled. “I love wintergreen. I don’t know why peppermint is more popular. Peppermint is so stuffy; wintergreen is fun.”
She seemed to get in a groove with her driving and soon my grip was loosening on the sides of the seat, the blood slowly returning to my knuckles. Suddenly I realized I hadn’t asked her name.
“I was so confused when you picked me up from the airport instead of my Grandma Dean that I never asked your name.”
She didn’t respond, just kept her eyes on the road with a steely look on her face. I was happy to see her finally being serious about driving, so I turned to look out the window. “It’s beautiful here,” I said after a few minutes of silence. I turned to look at her again and noticed that she was still focused straight ahead. I stared at her for a moment and realized she never blinked. Panic rose through my chest.