Heather Horrocks - Who-Dun-Him Inn 01 - Snowed Inn (37 page)

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Authors: Heather Horrocks

Tags: #Mystery: Cozy - Humor - Mystery Buff - Utah

BOOK: Heather Horrocks - Who-Dun-Him Inn 01 - Snowed Inn
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W
ho-Dun-Him Inn Cozy Mystery Series

Snowed Inn #1

Inn the Doghouse #2

Inn the Family Way #3
and
The Czech’s Inn the Mail
#4
(2014)

 

Bad Mothers Club Cozy Mystery Series

Murder is Misunderstood #1

 

Chick Flick Clique Romantic Comedy series

A Hound Dog Named Elvis
(in
A Timeless Romance: Autumn
anthology)

Pride and Precipitation #1

Regally Blonde #2

My Spare Lady #3
and
While You Were Stranded #4 (2013-4)

 

Inspirational Books

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 (2014)

 

LDS Romances & Other

You Just Turned 8: An LDS Baptism Book (2014)

How to Stuff a Wild Zucchini

Old Maid of Honor

Baby Mine

 

Previews

For previews of upcoming books by Heather Horrocks, to sign up for New Releases email, or for more information about the author, visit
www.BooksByHeatherHorrocks.com

 

 

 

Excerpt from
Inn the Doghouse
(Who-Dun-Him Inn Cozy Mystery #2)

 

When single mom and mystery buff, Vicki Butler, pays a visit to her husband’s grave, she stumbles across the body of her twin, Liz’s, estranged husband— the same brother-in-law she argued with just yesterday. Since Vicki is caught standing next to the body while her sister stands to inherit millions after the reading of her dead husband’s will, the twins suddenly find themselves “persons of interest.” Will they identify the real murderer in time to avoid the slammer? Or are they about to learn firsthand just how many innocent people one doghouse can hold?

 

CHAPTER ONE

Friday, September 28 ~ Morning of the Anniversary Party

As the dark-haired woman approached me with a pair of sharp scissors, my apprehension grew.

I put up my hands as a signal for her to stop advancing. “I think maybe this is a bad idea.”

Behind me, my twin sister, Liz Eklund, put her hands on my shoulders and kept me in the chair, staring at me in the black-edged salon mirror. It was like seeing double. “It’ll be fun. Come on, Vicki. You can’t chicken out now.”

Marta, whose hair was trimmed into a sharp-edged, geometric, high-fashion style, drew closer. How could she look so menacing with such pretty blue eyes and a friendly smile? Or sound so ominous with her slight French accent? “You’ll both look stunning when I’m done. I promise.”

Shaking my head, I said, “I’ll just settle for not scaring off the paying customers.”

Liz touched my hair. “Come on, Vicki. You already agreed. And it’s not like you’re the only one changing your look. I’m getting mine cut next.”

When Marta lifted a large lock of my shoulder-length red hair, I panicked. “Wait, ladies. Let’s rethink this. Why don’t you just trim my hair and shape it instead? I’m not sure I want to be mistaken for you all the time, Liz.”

My sister answered, “Shush, and let Marta do her job. It’s just a haircut.”

Marta held up the scissors. “Do I have your permission to proceed?”

I wanted to protest again, but really, what could it hurt? For the first time, in a long time, I’d have a ritzy haircut. After two years as a single mom, I suppose I could stand a makeover. On Liz’s dime was even better. And where best to show the whole world— at least my little world of Silver City— than at my parents’ anniversary shindig tonight?

I blew out a nervous breath, shut my eyes, and nodded. “Okay.”

The immediate
snip
of the scissors startled me and I opened my eyes.

Marta held out a five-inch lock of my hair. “Your transformation to stunning beauty has begun.”

O-
kay
. With a big chunk of my hair cut, I had officially passed the point of no return. My indecisiveness came to an end and I sat back, actually feeling relieved. “All right. Transform me.”

“That’s the spirit,” Liz said, pulling up a stool to watch. “We’re going to have so much fun at the anniversary party. People won’t know who they’re talking to.”

I felt certain she was right about people being confused, and could only hope she was right about how fun it would be.

I settled back to enjoy the makeover.

 

* * *

 

During a quiet moment between the last notes over the loudspeakers of one love song and the first strains of the next, an ear-splitting shriek rent the air.

I jumped, fumbling my plastic cup full of lemonade onto the wooden floor. Heart pounding, I spun around to see who was in trouble.

Beside me, Liz laughed, raising her hands up in surprise. “Why, Grandma, what a big yell you have!”

That was Grandma? Really? Holy crap, Batman!

Sure enough, twenty feet behind me, Grandma Ross was crouched in a martial arts pose, a huge grin on her face— a-hundred-and-plenty (her words) pounds of Chuck Norris readiness— but with streaked blonde hair and many more years under her wannabe-black belt.

My parents, Frank and Cheryl Ross, were seated at the far end of the large, rectangular room, waiting to greet the many friends and family members who came to help them celebrate their fiftieth wedding anniversary. Mom shook her head and Dad smiled at the antics of his mother. My seven-year-old son, Zach, who was standing by my mother, grinned.

Surprised by Grandma’s yell, others in the church’s large gym-decorated-as-wedding-reception turned to stare at us. Just twenty minutes into the party, there were already enough well-wishers to form a line hugging a long side wall, all craning to see what was happening while waiting to congratulate our parents.
And all were looking our way.

For once, could we
not
be the center of attention? Apparently not, with my grandmother around. I just wanted a nice celebration for my parents; a nice, uneventful evening without karate yells or any high jinks. They didn’t have a big wedding or reception when they got married, so we intended to create a nice reception for them now. I thought we’d succeeded quite nicely so far.
Ha! And then,
Grandma
.

This morning’s dramatic haircut didn’t help matters any, either. I was already mistaken for Liz twice— the first time by my own son! Ouch.

If you’d like to read more, go to
www.BooksByHeatherHorrocks.com
.

 

Excerpt from
Murder is Misunderstood
(Bad Mothers Club Cozy Mystery #2)

 

Good mothers are understanding. Bad mothers are misunderstood. When stay-at-home mom Becky Montgomery caught her husband of twenty-three years in their bed with another woman and beat him up a year ago, she never dreamed her children would blame her for the impending divorce. Feeling like maternal failures, she and her friends feisty PI Sam and No-One’s-Accused—Me-Of-Being-Mother Teresa form the Bad Mothers Club in order to deal with their various heartaches. When her soon-to-be-ex-husband Jack is accused of murdering Becky’s first date in over two decades, the Bad Mothers set out to prove his innocence, but only for the sake of Becky’s children. These Bad Mothers have faced everything from terrible twos and sleep deprivation to rebellious teens and heartbreak—they’re not about to let a mere murderer stop them from winning the Worst Mother of the Month award.

 

CHAPTER ONE

 

If life were fair, the five depressing hours I’d just spent at the mall buying all-black school clothes for my youngest daughter Gina would have meant the worst part of my day was behind me and I could now relax with dinner, a good book, and a long bath. But of course everyone knows life isn’t fair. So when I pulled into my driveway and discovered Kramer lounging on my front porch swing like he owned the world, I wasn’t happy but I wasn’t overly surprised, either.

Normally his choosing my place over Jack’s brought me a wicked sort of enjoyment, but today I was too emotionally drained to handle the inevitable upheaval caused by his presence. I didn’t want to see Jack today, and I didn’t want him to see my messy living room full of stuff I was in the process of boxing and hauling to the thrift store. Uncluttering my life was proving to be very messy. And convincing Gina not to call her father until morning could be even messier.

“Seinfeld is back!” Delighted, Gina was a black blur as she raced to the porch and scooped him into her arms.

I took my time, pulling out the mail from the box and going through it. All bills. All for me. Becky Montgomery. I’d kept the Montgomery because it was also my children’s last name. Plus I’d gotten used to it over the years.

When I couldn’t put it off any longer, I moved slowly toward my beautiful two-story brick home with flower beds lining the walk that was no longer the haven it had once been.

I passed Gina and Kramer and, with a shake of my head, unlocked the front door and stepped from Colorado’s August heat into my cool entryway.

Gina followed me inside.

With a sigh, I scratched the cat behind the ears. “Didn’t you listen to those high-powered attorneys, Kramer? You don’t live here any more.”


Mother
, his name is
Seinfeld
.”

Mother? Since when had my sixteen-year-old daughter started calling me
Mother
intead of plain ole Mom? It sounded so foreign. So detached. So extremely self-righteous. And the prim tone seemed more than a little strange coming from a confused teenage girl dressed entirely in goth black.

“Dad named him Seinfeld ’cause he’s so funny,” she explained as if I’d been living in a bubble for the five years since we brought the cat home. Kramer occupied a tender place in my heart for many reasons, the first and foremost being the fact that he valued this forty-four-year-old woman for herself, unlike some husbands I could name.

“But he keeps sliding through our door just like Kramer.” I went for flippant as I reached out to stroke the Siamese cat’s soft, two-toned, dark-brown-and-beige fur. “Complete with crazy stand-on-end hair.”


Seinfeld
,” she repeated firmly, as though that ended all argument, forever. Lowering the cat to the floor, she raised an eyebrow and continued her lecture. “We should call him the name Dad wants. He paid for him, fair and square.”

“Yes, he did.” I turned my head to hide my smile. Jack had made a huge concession in our not-quite-finalized divorce: I could have the antique sideboard I loved, the one that had belonged to
his
grandmother, in exchange for him keeping
his
cat.

The sideboard seemed to like it at my house. Unfortunately for Jack, the cat did, too.

If you’d like to read more, go to
www.BooksByHeatherHorrocks.com
,
Amazon
, or
Nook
.

Excerpt from
Regally Blonde
(Chick Flick Clique Romantic Comedy #2)

 

Former beauty queen Jamie Summers has more problems than just world peace to worry about.

When Jamie returns to her hometown of Aspen Grove, her mother’s Chick Flick Clique friends are exceedingly curious about the state of her relationship with long-time boyfriend Christopher Ellington.

Jamie is curious, herself. When Christopher proposes for the third time, she hesitantly accepts. Since he immediately leaves for an extended overseas business trip, she’s relieved to have some time to get used to the idea, placing the ring safely beside her tiara and not mentioning it to anyone.

New neighbor David Stevens has good reason to avoid beautiful women, but when his three-year-old daughter Sunny sees Jamie, she’s convinced she’s her mommy. He begins to learn more about her, he realizes she’s not like his ex-wife, and he’s glad she’s not wearing any man’s ring.

How did life get so complicated so quickly? Jamie’s gone from Miss California to Miss America to Big Mistake. Is she about to lose everyone she’s come to care about?

 

CHAPTER ONE

 

“Jamie Sue Summers, will you marry me and make me the happiest man on earth?”

Trapped, Jamie could feel everyone in the restaurant staring at her as the conversations around them swirled down to whispers.

Why did Christopher Ellington always have to propose in such public places?

Her face heated as he went down on one knee before her, holding a perfectly budded red rose in one hand and an open ring box displaying a gorgeous, dazzling diamond in the other. He knelt in the space between their corner table and the three tables circling them.

So, if Christopher was doing everything just right, why was she so darned panicked?

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