Thursday, October 22, 2020

Thursday's Fifth Scene - Murder and Sweet Tea #BWLAuthor #MFRWAuthor #Cozy mystery #Katherine Miller #Hudson River

 

When I reached the house, I found a note from Lars. “Gone golfing. See you at dinner time.”

Being released from the need to socialize with my husband, I filled a large glass with iced peppermint tea and settled in the dark green plush recliner to begin the book. By the second page, the characters and developing plot pulled me into the story.

When I reached the halfway point of the book, Lars returned. He waved his hand in front of my face. “Earth to Kate. Must be an intriguing story.”

“A riveting one.” I placed the novel on the table between our chairs. “Though not my usual reading material, I can’t put it down. The author will be our new neighbor.”

He lifted the book. “So you’ve solved the mystery of the house buyer.” He read aloud the material on the back cover.

“Death follows Nanette Gordon as she fights for control of her father’s import-export company. One of her opponents has marked her for death. Who? Enter Andrew Miliken, Is he friend or foe?”

“Sabrina Gates has penned an exciting and tightly woven story. Touches of her Southern home are woven into the narrative with a deft hand.”

He opened the book. “This sounds good.”

I met his gaze. “You can read the book when I’m done.”

He laughed. “Keep reading. This is a better way to experience murder than finding corpses.”

My laughter echoed his. “Just think we’ll soon meet the author whose imagination created this story.”

“Let’s hope her imagination is all she brings to town.”

My sigh turned into a groan. Finding the dead wasn’t my idea of fun. I rose. “No more murders for me unless they’re in the pages of a book.”

“Good. I won’t have to play Watson to your Sherlock.”

I nodded. “Go take your shower. Then we’ll have dinner.”

“Here or should we go out?”

“I’ll make crab salad. There’s lettuce and tomatoes and there’s a loaf of that dark rye you like.”

“Sounds great.”

As Lars walked away, I went to the kitchen and took the ingredients for dinner from the fridge and placed them on the counter. Once I finished making the salad, I wiped the granite counter. I stared out the window and studied the house on the other side of the privet hedge. When would the new owner arrive? Would I like Sabrina Gates as much as I liked her book?

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