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Visiting a psychic is outside the norm for Ellison Russell. Finding bodies is not. Unfortunately, the psychic’s crystal ball says she’ll soon be surrounded by death. Again.
Now there’s a corpse in the front drive, a witchy neighbor ready to turn Ellison and her (not so) little dog into toadstools, and a stripper named Starry Knight occupying the guest room.
How did 1975 go so wrong so quickly?
Ellison must handle Mother (who’s found a body of her own), make up with a certain handsome detective, and catch a killer, or the death surrounding her might be her own.
I’m Max and I live with Ellison and Grace. They’re my pack. Aggie, too. Aggie gives me bacon when Ellison’s not looking. DON’T TELL!
Life in my pack is never boring. Never.
Seems like there’s a stranger skulking around the house most every day. And, if there isn’t, there are always squirrels and cats to keep me busy. I don’t like squirrels. At all. They invade my yard, chitter, climb my trees, and bury acorns in the flower beds.
Ellison doesn’t understand the vigilance involved in keeping them out of my domain.
Do you smell bacon?
About those skulkers, the latest one caused a kerfuffle in the front yard. Lights. Sirens. Anarchy Jones (who’s okay) and Detective Peters (who isn’t okay). The other person who isn’t okay? Our neighbor, Margaret Hamilton. The woman keeps cats. On purpose.
Mrs. Hamilton is ready to call animal control. About me. ME. It’s not my fault a squirrel ran into her house. Not my fault she didn’t get out of the way before I ran through her legs. Not my fault…well, the broken dishes might be my fault.
Do you smell bacon?
I smell bacon. Time to follow my nose.
You can read more about the skulkers, Ellison, and my misadventure with Margaret Hamilton in Shadow Dancing.
About the Author
Julie Mulhern is the USA Today bestselling author of The Country Club Murders. She is a Kansas City native who grew up on a steady diet of Agatha Christie. She spends her spare time whipping up gourmet meals for her family, working out at the gym and finding new ways to keep her house spotlessly clean–and she’s got an active imagination. Truth is–she’s an expert at calling for take-out, she grumbles about walking the dog and the dust bunnies under the bed have grown into dust lions.
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