by Morgana Best
I reached for my champagne glass, but before it reached my lips, Persnickle launched himself at me. I flew backwards over my chair, my champagne flying from my hand and hitting the potted plant beside me. From where I was lying, I could see Oleander’s concerned expression, but Detective Grayson reached me first. He pulled me to my feet, and then released me abruptly. “What was that about?”
I shook my head. “I have no idea. Something obviously upset Persnickle.” I knew instinctively that the wombat had not meant to harm me—I realised he was trying to tell me something. But what? Was there another ghost trying to come through?
I heard a gasp, and looked at Oleander. She was frozen to the spot, her face a mask of horror.
Chapter 8
I spun around, expecting to see a crazy person with a knife, but there was no one there.
“The plant,” she sputtered.
I followed her gaze. The plant, which minutes before had been a healthy, flourishing plant, was now brown and shrivelled.
Grayson seized me by my shoulders and pulled me away from it. “Everyone sit down right where you are,” he said in a commanding tone. “Goldie’s champagne has been poisoned.”
“But I drank mine,” Laura said, clutching her throat. “And I feel all right.”
“Someone put it in Goldie’s glass.” His eyes lighted on Harriet. “You were sitting next to Goldie.”
“And she hasn’t been in town long,” I said.
Harriet stood up and backed away. “I didn’t do it!”
“No one’s accusing you,” Grayson said, although it sounded like he had done just that. “Please sit down.”
“The murderer is someone in this room,” Athanasius said, somewhat unnecessarily. We all exchanged glances. A chill up ran my spine. There was a flash of lightning.
“It’s someone who hasn’t been in town long,” I told the group. “The murderer thought Nat Jeffries was me. Someone who had been in town for any length of time would have known he was a local builder. The murderer wanted to kill my uncle’s heir.”
Harriet frowned. “I’m not following. Why would anyone want to kill your uncle’s heir?”
I sneaked a glance at Max Grayson, expecting him to ask the same thing, but he didn’t. He did not appear the least surprised by my pronouncement. Did he know more than he was letting on?
Persnickle approached, more quietly this time, and nudged my leg. “Good boy,” I said, stroking him. “I’ll give you another treat.”
He made his strange grunting sound as I gave him a carrot. I was in despair. How would we solve this? Someone in the room had tried to kill me, but who was it? I only knew I did not do it. Everyone else was a suspect. And what if two people were in it together? I shuddered at the thought. If only the ghost could remember. That gave me an idea.
Aloud I said, “If only Nat Jefferies’ ghost was here. If only Nat Jefferies’ ghost could look at everyone sitting in this room and try to remember who murdered him.” I realised I was speaking loudly, as if it would somehow make the ghost hear from wherever he was, in whatever nether region.
Persnickle wandered back into the room. “Can you fetch Nat Jefferies’ ghost for me, Persnickle?” I said with a false laugh, making out I was joking, only I was deadly serious.
To my enormous relief, the ghost slowly formed in front of me. I had to be careful what I said so the others didn’t think I’d lost my mind. “Okay, we know that someone in this room just tried to murder me.” I pointed to the plant. “That was some potent poison they put in my champagne glass.”
“You’re kidding!” the ghost said.
“And that means the murderer is someone in this room.”
“You’re kidding!” the ghost said again.
“What a shame ghosts aren’t real,” I said, “because if ghosts were real, Nat Jefferies’ ghost could have a very good look at everyone here to see if something jogs his memory.” I hoped he’d take the hint, and he did, because he walked around the room, pausing to look at each person.
“Well, ghosts aren’t real,” Harriet said primly.
“I remember now why I couldn’t remember who killed me,” Nat said.
“Why?” I asked urgently.
Harriet, of course, thought I was talking to her. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “They’re just not.”
“Because I never saw anyone,” Nat said. “It’s all coming back to me now. I did smell her perfume, however.”
“Perfume!” I said. “What did it smell like?”
Laura stood up. “Is it okay if I go to the bathroom?”
It was then that I knew. “She’s the murderer!” I said.
Nat agreed with me. “That’s what brought it all back to me. My ex-wife used to wear the same perfume. That woman’s wearing it now.”
Laura sprinted out the door, with Max hard on her heels. I went to move after them, but Oleander caught my arm. “It’s best if you stay here.” Thunder boomed directly over us. Oleander pulled me down to sit beside her. “And calm down, dear. Breathe deeply.”
“How did you know?” Harriet asked me. “What did you mean about the perfume?”
I had to think fast. “Um, I remembered that I smelt her perfume this morning, when I woke up in Nat’s tent.” I felt bad lying, but I could hardly tell her the truth. I was saved from saying any more, because Max returned with an angry Laura in handcuffs. All his hair was standing on end, as if he’d had an electric shock. I figured she had used her powers, whatever they were, on him in an attempt to escape. Thankfully, it hadn’t worked.
“I certainly hope Laura didn’t murder the people next door,” I said, all at once concerned.
“No, they sold the house and went on a trip around Australia,” Oleander said.
Max restrained the struggling Laura. “I have to take her into custody, and then come back and get statements from all of you. I’ll see you three at the retirement home. Goldie, will you be all right by yourself?”
I nodded. “I won’t be by myself. I have Persnickle.”
Chapter 9
That afternoon, I was sitting by the waterfront, with Persnickle on a leash. His nose was deep in the grass bordering the little strip of sand, and he was making horrible sounds, no doubt searching for something edible.
I was doing my best to process the day’s events. My life had certainly been turned upside down in the space of a few hours. I was staring out to sea, when a car pulled up next to me.
Oleander got out of the car and walked to sit beside me. “How are you coping, Goldie?”
I shrugged. “As well as can be expected, I suppose.”
“Please feel free to come and speak to me at any time.” I was about to thank her, when she continued, “I’ll come straight to the point. Athanasius and I know you’re a sea witch, and that Persnickle is your familiar. We were good friends with your uncle. He was a sea witch, and we—well, let’s just say that we’re witches, too.”
I gasped. Could the day get any stranger? “You, you are? And um, you know?” I stammered.
She leant across and patted my hand. “You’re safe now, Goldie. What happened with Laura was a one-off. Please don’t think that you’ll be in constant danger with people trying to murder you to take your powers.”
I sighed with relief. “Actually, I was beginning to think that might be the case.”
Oleander laughed. “Not at all.”
“The detective—is he a witch?”
Oleander was silent for a moment. “Not as far as we know, but there’s something about him.”
I nodded. “I thought so, too.”
Persnickle came over and demanded a pat from Oleander. She smiled and then turned to me. “You know, I think you’ll like this town. It’s your destiny. And I know it’s a far cry from your life in Melbourne, but here, you have friends.”
I thought back to my tiny one bedroom apartment in Melbourne I’d left only days earlier. It had been a lonely existence, but at the time, I thought I liked it. And although
someone had already tried to kill me on my second day in town, East Bucklebury was beginning to grow on me. I was sure I would be fast friends with Oleander, and I had a life-saving wombat as a familiar. What more could a girl want?
Connect with Morgana
Connect with Morgana
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Next Book In This Series
Broom with a View (Sea Witch Cozy Mysteries, Book 2)
Join Goldie Bloom, a thirty something, high flying real estate agent sent out into the wilds of quiet seaside Australia by the boss who broke her heart. She is hardly expecting to inherit a cranky mystical wombat, discover she is descended from an ancient coven of sea witches, or find herself in the middle of a town with no coffee, but that’s precisely what happens. Goldie does her best to solve a murder, come into her powers, and stop that wombat from terrorising the old ladies of the retirement village, all the while fighting her attraction for Detective Max Grayson.
Read an excerpt at the end of this book.
Also by Morgana Best
Witches’ Brew (Witches and Wine Book 1)
Pepper Jasper does not believe in the supernatural.
Pepper moves from Sydney to the cozy town of Lighthouse Bay, answering a desperate plea from her aunts to help with their failing Bed and Breakfast business.
She discovers her aunts are more eccentric than she remembered, the Bed and Breakfast does not serve breakfast, and the cottages for lease have strange themes. And what’s more, within minutes of her arrival, she stumbles across a dead body.
Pepper soon has her hands full, contending with a murder mystery, irritating guests including the enigmatic Lucas O’Callaghan who is convinced every woman wants to fall into his arms, and her aunts, who are hiding more than one dark secret.
Who or what lurks in the forbidden room at the end of the dark corridor?
Why do the aunts insist she drink copious quantities of special label wine?
Find out what awaits Pepper Jasper at Mugwort Manor.
Miss Spelled (The Kitchen Witch Book 1)
Amelia Spelled has had a bad week. Her boyfriend dumps her when she inadvertently gives him food poisoning. Her workplace, a telecommunications centre, fires all their staff as they are outsourcing offshore, and she is evicted due to smoke damage resulting from her failed attempts at baking. Amelia thinks her luck has changed when she inherits her estranged aunt’s store, two mysterious cats, and beautiful Victorian house.
Yet has Amelia jumped out of the frying pan into the fire? To Amelia's dismay, the store is a cake store, and she discovers that her aunt was a witch. To add to the mix, the house has secrets of its own.
When a man is murdered in the cake store, will Amelia be able to cook up a way to solve the crime? Or will her spells prove as bad as her baking?
A Ghost of a Chance (Witch Woods Funeral Home Book 1)
Nobody knows that Laurel Bay can see and talk to ghosts. When she inherits a funeral home, she is forced to return from the city to the small town of Witch Woods to breathe life into the business. It is a grave responsibility, but Laurel is determined that this will be no dead-end job.
There she has to contend with her manipulative and overly religious mother, more than one ghost, and a secretive but handsome accountant.
When the murder of a local woman in the funeral home strangles the finances, can Laurel solve the murder?
Or will this be the death of her business?
Christmas Spirit (The Middle-aged Ghost Whisper Book 1)
Prudence Wallflower tours the country, making live appearances. She connects people with loved ones who have passed on. However, her reputation as a clairvoyant medium is failing, and even Prudence has begun to doubt herself. She has never seen a ghost, but receives impressions from the dead. This all changes when the ghost of a detective appears to her and demands her help to solve a murder. Prudence finds herself out of her depth, and to make matters worse, she is more attracted to this ghost than any man she has ever met.
Live and Let Diet (The Australian Amateur Sleuth Book 1)
NON paranormal cozy mystery
Sybil Potts moves to Little Tatterford, a small town in the middle of nowhere in Australia, seeking to find peace and quiet after the upheaval of her divorce.
Although the town is sleepy and nothing has ever happened, her arrival coincides with a murder in the property adjacent to her cottage. Sybil soon finds she is at odds with the attractive Blake Wessley, the exasperated police officer who is trying to solve the murder.
After Sibyl narrowly misses becoming the next victim, she turns her attention to the suspects. Is it the English gentleman, Mr. Buttons, who serves everyone tea and cucumber sandwiches, or her landlord, Cressida Upthorpe, who is convinced that her fat cat, Lord Farringdon, speaks to her? Or is it someone else entirely?
Sweet Revenge (Cocoa Narel Chocolate Shop Mysteries, Book 1)
NON paranormal cozy mystery
Requires a sense of humour!
Narel Myers was given the ironic name Cocoa Narel by the cruel popular kids in high school, as she was far from elegant and was obsessed with chocolate. The truth of the matter was that her love of eating chocolate had caused her to become excessively overweight. Some years later, a car wreck leads to her undergoing extensive plastic surgery on her face and body. Now that she is medically unable to gain weight, she decides to indulge her love for chocolate by opening a designer chocolate shop.
When people who bullied her at high school are murdered one by one, she becomes the prime suspect. Will she be able to prove her innocence when the police think she’s out for revenge?
Will Carl, her best friend, stop flirting with the police long enough to help her find the real killer?
* * *
SERIES BY MORGANA BEST
Witches and Wine (A fun, quirky cozy mystery series!)
1) Witches’ Brew
2) Witches’ Secrets
3) Witches’ Charms
4) Witches Magic
5) Witches’ Spells
* * *
The Kitchen Witch
1) Miss Spelled
2) Dizzy Spells
3) Sit for a Spell
4) Spelling Mistake
5) Ex-Spelled
6) The Halloween Spell
7) Spellcheck
8) The Halloween Love Spell
9) Spell It Out
* * *
Sea Witch Cozy Mysteries
1) Broom Mates (Short story 10,000 words)
2) Broom With A View
3) Broom For One More
4) Broomed for Success
* * *
The Middle-aged Ghost Whisperer
1) Christmas Spirit
2) Ghost Hunter
3) There Must be a Happy Medium
* * *
Witch Woods Funeral Home
1) A Ghost of a Chance
2) Nothing to Ghost About
3) Make the Ghost of It
4) Ghost Stories
5) Ghost Blusters
* * *
And Morgana’s non-Witch Cosy mysteries:
Cocoa Narel Chocolate Shop Mysteries
1) Sweet Revenge
2) The Sugar Hit
3) Murder Sweetly Served
4) Chocolate to Die For
* * *
The Australian Amateur Sleuth
1) Live and Let Diet
2) Natural-Born Grillers
3) Dye Hard
4) The Prawn Identity
5) Any Given Sundae
6) The Last Mango in Paris
* * *
AUDIO. Most of Morgana’s books are currently on Audio.
PAPERBACK. A
ll Morgana’s books are available in Paperback.
Excerpt from Broom With a View
Broom With a View is Book 2 in the Sea Witch Cozy Mystery series
Persnickle and I shared a love of five inch stilettos; the only problem was I loved to wear them, while he loved to eat them. I awoke in my new house in Queensland after crashing fully clothed on the lumpy bed, only to find Persnickle, who was a wombat, and my familiar, nibbling on one heel of the most expensive shoes I’d ever bought.
“Get off.” I shooed Persnickle away. I almost called him a little devil, but then I remembered the devil likes to wear Prada, not chew it.
I struggled out of bed, grumbling, and said good morning to the great love of my life: my coffee machine. Persnickle, satisfied he’d chewed all he could chew, softly snored in the background as I made my first cup of the day.
As I drank, I tried not to think about Thomas, my ex-boyfriend. Not only had he cheated on me, but he didn’t even have the good grace to grow a humpback and catch some horrible disease that made his skin go all purple, like all terrible ex-boyfriends should. It was the only decent thing to do.
After one cup of coffee, things were starting to look a little brighter. At least I had slept in a bed the previous night rather than in the tent of the night before, and who would have thought that only the previous day I had tripped over a dead body, and a woman had tried to poison me? And I had been told small country towns were boring!
