WHO-DUN-HIM INN Cozy Mysteries:
Snowed Inn, Inn the Doghouse, Inn the Family Way, Laugh Yourself to Death at the Who-Dun-Him Inn (#1, 2, & 3), The Czech’s Inn the Mail #4 (2016)
BAD MOTHERS CLUB Cozy Mystery Series:
Murder is Misunderstood #1
INSPIRATIONAL:
Women Who Knew the Mortal Messiah, Men Who Knew the Mortal Messiah, Women and Men Who Knew the Mortal Messiah, Women Who Knew the Great Jehovah (2016)
AMERICAN MAIL-ORDER BRIDE:
Violet: Bride of North Dakota
OTHERS:
How to Stuff a Wild Zucchini, Old Maid of Honor, Baby Mine
Receive a FREE STORY for signing up for Heather’s New Release Newsletter at www.BooksByHeatherHorrocks.com
Acknowledgments
So many people help me get my books ready for my readers, and I want to thank you all!
As always, thanks to USA Today bestselling author DIANE DARCY. I love our plotting days and the cute books we make appear out of thin air!
My amazing editors — ANISSA WALL of AnissaEdits.com and THERESA CROUSE of Magical Words Editing — who clean up my act.
And my fantastic beta readers — Desiree Rowe Taggard, Heidi Nielsen, Lois A Sturdivant, Lori Hocker Carson, Marie Barnhurst, Marsha Sensel, Shauna Leigh Best — who find the last few (I hope!) typos and mistakes. Thanks for loving my books!
I appreciate all your help!
Copyright © 2017 Heather Horrocks
www.BooksByHeatherHorrocks.com
Word Garden Press
The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for third-party websites or their content.
Cover Art Copyrights
Retro Theater Marquee - Copyright © 2017 KeithBishop (istockphoto.com)
Glamorous Young Woman Dancing in High Heels - Copyright © 2017 maia3000 (istockphoto.com)
Guitar Player - Copyright © 2017 NaCreative (istockphoto.com)
Wolf - Copyright © 2017 (istockphoto.com)
Abstract Bright Musical Background - Copyright © 2017 pavalena (istockphoto.com)
Inside Graphics Copyrights
Halloween © luplupme (istockphoto.com)
Monster At The Window © Dean Murray (istockphoto.com)
All Rights Reserved
This includes the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles and reviews. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions.
Work of Fiction
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Receive a free novella and updates on new books released by Heather Horrocks at www.BooksByHeatherHorrocks.com
Excerpt:
Jingle Belle
Moonchuckle Bay Prequel #0.5
Get this book free here.
Jingle has a bounty hunter on her trail!
When her controlling uncle plans snow pixie Jingle Belle’s unwanted marriage to a much older man, she flees Snowville. Determined to marry only for love, she boards the Blizzard Express to create a new life for herself. Nicholas is hired to deliver her to her groom — but when he comes face to face with the beautiful faedy, he wants to keep her for his own. Can he keep her safe? And will she forgive him if she learns what he’s done?
Chapter One ~ A Surprise Party
THE MAGIC WORKED! FINALLY!
Jingle Belle’s heart sang with jubilation as she watched the flash of light that signaled she’d gotten it right.
After three years of work in her mother’s laboratory, Jingle had perfected her snow magic!
She held the cone high as she spun around the room. Little sparkles of blue light flashed off the snow — a flavor that would fix a person’s blue mood and make them feel happier.
She took another bite. It was delicious — and her own mood shifted even higher.
Now she could help people feel better the way her mother had encouraged her to do before her death. Her mother had been gifted in pixie magic, and Jingle had finally accomplished something her mother would be proud of. If only she could show her what she’d done.
At a knock on the laboratory door, she froze. She exchanged a glance with her pure white Arctic fox, Snowball, and then said, “Yes?”
Her uncle’s voice called out, his tone pleasant for a change, “Jingle, I’ve come to escort you to the dinner table.”
He couldn’t come into the room unless she allowed it, because her mother had warded the door against everyone except the two of them. This was a snow pixie’s magical lab. Not all pixies had magic. Her uncle didn’t. He had arrogance and control issues. He may have moved into her parents’ home after her mother died, claiming the home and duchy as his own now that he was Jingle’s guardian, but he still couldn’t come into this room. And that infuriated him.
Which made Jingle wish she could just stay inside forever — but he could make her life miserable if she didn’t obey him. “All right. Let me set my things down, and I’ll be right out.”
“Hurry, dear.” His voice had a quality of barely controlled patience.
She set the cone down in the special holder that could corral five cones at once. This special magical snow melted at a much slower rate than normal shaved ice — this one wouldn’t start to drip until late tomorrow evening.
She wiped her fingers on a damp towel and blew out a breath. Shaking her arms and lifting her shoulders, she prepared herself to talk with her uncle, the Duke of Snowville, control freak of the century.
Snowball sent a thought to her: Be careful. He is not to be trusted.
I know it, and I will, Jingle sent back. Will you wait here for me? Otherwise he might see you.
I will wait.
She unlocked the door and opened it.
Her uncle smiled down at her, but she didn’t trust that smile. Usually that meant he was planning something she wouldn’t like.
She didn’t normally go into people’s heads, even though she could, but when others were feeling strong emotions, sometimes she found herself sucked into their minds before she realized it. That happened now. He was definitely happy about something, but she couldn’t make out what it was.
Oh well, perhaps later. Happy was good, right?
He held out his arm, she put her hand on it, and he walked her toward the formal dining room — a room that could seat fifty guests.
Cook had prepared a feast, undoubtably keeping her five assistants busy all afternoon. There was enough food here for twenty, and yet it was just Jingle and her uncle here.
The butler pulled out a seat for her. She smiled at him and said, “Thank you, Arnold.”
He smiled back. “You’re very welcome, Miss Jingle.”
Then Arnold pulled out a chair for the Duke, who ignored him entirely. The butler went to stand alongside the wall and await the next order.
She hated how the household staff had grown so stiff and fearful. Not at all like the happy people they’d been when her mother was still here.
The serving girls brought out platters filled with breads and cheeses, and then her favorite soup, a sweet, chilled strawberry soup.
Jingle ate, watching her uncle warily. He ate, ignoring her for the most part.
After the second course was brought out, a succulent steamed fish with vegetables, he looked at her and said, “I’ve been thinking. You’ll be twenty-one in two weeks, Jingle, and it’s time for you to begin thinking of marriage.”
If you’d like the rest (for free), just click here.
Excerpt: The Hacker Bakes Lycanberry “Pi”
Moonchuckle Bay #6
Release Dat
e April 30, 2017
SHE STEALS SOME COOKIES ... ALONG WITH HIS HEART!
When the ethical hacker that Walter Clemmons has hired to learn who’s gotten into the new Council office computer system is hit on the head and suffers amnesia, he feels duty bound to take care of her. Sugar Monroe doesn’t work like any hacker he’s known, but she seems to have a knack for finding the problems. When he realizes the office isn’t the real target and Sugar is not what she seems, will he be able to handle the truth?
CHAPTER ONE
AS LYDIA HAMILTON PASSED THE signs welcoming her to town, she glanced at the gas gauge — and startled. The display said she had only enough gas left to go one more mile.
Good luck, don’t fail me now!
She took the freeway exit on mere fumes and rolled into the closest station, Phillips 666.
She’d lost track of the gas gauge while she listened to the latest culinary mystery from Diane Mott Davidson featuring Goldy Bear — a heroine who loved to cook almost as much as Lydia did.
Thanking her luck, Lydia climbed out and stretched, enjoying the warmth of the June sun.
It had been a six-hour drive from Grand Junction, since the only roads into Moonchuckle Bay that were passable by passenger car came out of either Cedar City or St. George, Utah. She’d taken the shorter Cedar City route.
She filled her Honda Civic’s 12-gallon gas tank with 13.5 gallons of gas. Her car was a pretty white and brand new. She’d bought it when she’d graduated.
“Lydia Hamilton?” a woman’s voice called out.
Lydia turned to see an Amazonian-tall woman striding toward her. Lydia couldn’t read auras, but she definitely got a wary vibe. She didn’t know why. Surely it wasn’t the woman’s height. Or her green pantsuit. Maybe it was just that no one in town besides Elvis should know her in this town. “Yes?”
“I’m Jade Monroe.” The woman smiled and extended her hand. “I’m so glad to meet you. Elvis asked me to watch for you and take you straight to him. He’s excited to meet his new pastry chef.”
Those words should have relieved Lydia’s wariness, but the woman’s hard green eyes and cold smile made her pause.
She still didn’t want to be rude, so she put out her hand. The woman had a strong grip.
Lydia said, “I have my own car.” Of course. Duh. Right here beside me.
“Of course you do.” The woman gave a dismissive wave. “You can follow me in your own car.”
A white van pulled up at the pump beside them. Good, because this woman was giving her the creeps. Now there was someone else there in case something happened.
Lydia didn’t take her eyes off Jade, but out of the periphery of her vision she could see a tall man climb out of the van, walk around to the back, and open the back doors.
Jade said, “Elvis hasn’t stopped talking about you since he received your resume. It’s been Lydia this and Lydia that. I can’t tell you how glad we are that you’re finally here.”
Well, that was good. “I’ll enjoy working with him.”
It wasn’t every day that a chef got to work with Elvis — the Elvis — in his new business that would be opening next month. Elvis Sightings, where he’d be serving all of the King’s favorites — many including grape jelly and peanut butter. He did, luckily, also want to provide first-rate desserts, and that’s where she’d come in, fresh from her stint at the Johnson and Wales University culinary school in Denver.
She was the first in her family to attend culinary school. Though they’d discouraged her at first, now they were enthusiastically proud of her — and her cousin was attending now.
Lydia took a few steps back away from the woman — when someone grabbed her from behind and put a hand over her mouth to stifle the scream that arose. Within mere seconds, she was thrown into the back of the white van. The woman shut the doors.
She kicked at the man, and he swore, then punched her with his big fist.
Stunned, she fell — and he trussed her up like some kind of calf at a calf-roping event. Then he thrust a gag into her mouth.
Adrenaline froze her heart and limbs while fear slammed into her. Her jaw ached where he’d hit her and she hoped he hadn’t broken anything.
She’d been kidnapped?
How could that even be possible?
Come on, good luck. Any time.
The woman climbed into the side of the van and shut that door, too, while the man climbed out. “I’ll drive her car somewhere it won’t be found. Come pick me up in an hour at Town Square.”
The woman scrunched over and walked back, kneeling beside Lydia. She rubbed Lydia’s arm, and the touch was cold and almost reptilian. Lydia shivered.
“Don’t be afraid,” Jade Monroe said. “We have big plans for you. We need some good luck, and we’re going to use yours to get what we want.”
Without thinking, instinctively, Lydia shook her head no.
The woman smirked and rubbed Lydia’s arm again. “And we’ll take it whether you want to share or not.”
That wasn’t the way it worked, but, even if she could talk, she wouldn’t have said anything else. Cut off from her sisters, her powers were weaker. But no one could take her good luck from her.
She just knew, from experience throughout her thirty years of life, that any time now something would happen to rescue her. Her good luck sometimes took its time, but it always kicked in.
Kick in now, she thought, and tried to send out that intention, even though her good luck was the random sort and came and went as it pleased.
Being a good luck charm was usually a good thing.
If you’d like to read more, go to www.BooksByHeatherHorrocks.com.
Thanks again!
You’re amazing!
Heather Horrocks
www.BooksByHeatherHorrocks.com
Elvis Gets His Groove Back (Moonchuckle Bay Romantic Comedy #5 Page 11