Yes, the release of my second Sweet Bites Bakery book is growing closer–before the end of the month for sure, though the date is a little hazy as I’m waiting for my cover to be finished. With much luck I’ll be able to do a cover reveal next week. In the meantime, here’s a little teaser:
When I didn’t find the mayor on the main floor, I went upstairs where there were rooms organizations could rent. I checked a couple of meeting rooms, then pushed on the door to the closet-sized kitchen, which could be rented to portion out snacks for events. The door stopped when it was halfway open and I looked down, seeing a big, brown men’s shoe blocking the way. It appeared to be attached to a pair of men’s dress pants. My heart raced and I caught my breath as I looked around the edge of the door, already knowing I was not going to like what I saw.
Eric Hogan lay on his back, the boxes of pie I’d made for him lay next to him, one on its side with the pie falling out onto the floor in chunks. His hands splayed at his side and a big red bullet hole marred his forehead, blood still oozing out of it into a pool around his upper body and trickling down under the oven.
My stomach clenched as I grew nauseated. The smell of peaches and spice assaulted my nose along with the coppery scent of blood (though that
might have been my imagination). I took two quick steps back, holding my
stomach, hoping I wouldn’t vomit. A few more steps and I ran into the railing that overlooked the main floor. Turning I saw the mayor and a woman passing below me. “Mayor, help! Call 911.” My voice failed me, and he looked up at me, confused. “It’s Eric Hogan,” I said.
might have been my imagination). I took two quick steps back, holding my
stomach, hoping I wouldn’t vomit. A few more steps and I ran into the railing that overlooked the main floor. Turning I saw the mayor and a woman passing below me. “Mayor, help! Call 911.” My voice failed me, and he looked up at me, confused. “It’s Eric Hogan,” I said.
“What’s wrong with him? Is he hurt?” He started up the stairs toward me fast.
“He’s dead.” I slid down the railing to sit on the floor and pulled my legs to my chest, dropping my head between my knees, hoping I wouldn’t pass out. What was it with me finding dead bodies?
And now, back to edits.