Latest in Series, Sweet Tea and Spirits, by Angie Fox!

They say you know a ghost is near when bloodhounds howl in the night or when you see a flickering shadow out of the corner of your eye. But as I leaned against the white painted rail of my back porch, I knew a ghost lingered behind me because he couldn’t stop talking about his poker hand. 
“Four of a kind, aces,” Frankie crowed, laying his cards out on the table for his three gangster buddies, who would have been green with envy if they hadn’t shimmered in black and white.
The snub-nosed ghost across from Frankie tossed his cards down onto the table. “You’re cheating!” he declared, but he said it halfheartedly. He knew as well as I did that Frankie couldn’t be hiding an ace up his sleeve. Spirits could only own what they’d died with and Frankie hadn’t been holding any cards on that hot summer night back in 1933. 
“Lucky at cards, unlucky at love,” I teased, gaining a bemused

glance from my boyfriend of several months, the handsome deputy sheriff, Ellis Wydell. I drew close enough to smell his spicy aftershave. “I’m talking about Frankie.” 
“I figured,” Ellis said, wrapping an arm around me. “You need to find him a girlfriend.” 
“I think that’s beyond my pay grade.” I was still getting used to the fact that I could see spirits and talk to them. And that I occasionally hosted poker night. Ghostly matchmaking was a whole other level of weird. Ellis and I shared a grin and I was just about to lean up and kiss him when the phone in my pocket vibrated.
“I wonder who that could be,” I said, not recognizing the number. If the call wasn’t from a friend or family member, maybe it was a potential client. I’d been trying to get my ghost-hunting business started. “Oh, Ellis. I think this could be it.” I stepped away from him and answered. “Hello?” I asked, over the croak of bullfrogs and the chirping of crickets. 
Static clouded the other end of the line. A woman’s voice crackled in the midst of it. “We need you.” Her words sounded hollow, far away. 
“Who is this?” I pulled the phone away to take a second look at the caller ID. 
“I recognize that number,” Ellis said. “It’s the main line for the Sugarland Heritage Society.” The group oversaw historic preservation and resided in one of the town’s most treasured old properties. It shouldn’t be open this late at night, on a Friday no less.
I’ll be there in five.” He headed for the porch steps. “Sorry, Verity.” 
“I’m going with you,” I said, hurrying after him, making sure to bypass the ghosts. Ellis stopped at the edge of the porch and planted a quick kiss on top of my head. 
“Not this time. Break-ins can be dangerous.” He gave my hand a squeeze and then took to the stairs. “Let me do my job.” 
“It’s a murder,” I said, following him down. “That’s the call I just got. A woman reported a murder. The call came from inside the house.” 
He drew his radio out again and cursed under his breath. “Watch your backs. Verity Long just received a call from inside the Sugarland Heritage Society. Caller reported a murder.” I gave it ten seconds before that was all over town. 
“You see why I’m going with you,” I said, trailing him to his police cruiser. Dang. I needed to get my purse.
“Not yet,” Ellis said, turning to me. “The police will be swarming all over the place.” He dug in his pocket for his keys. “This is the biggest thing since the bank murder.”
 “Which I solved,” I pointed out. 
“You know I think you’re amazing,” he said, with the kind of pride that made me go a bit melty, “but let the police do their job, mortal methods only. I’ll tell you what we find and bring you in as soon as we can.” 
“But a murder?” I protested, unwilling to let it go. 
“I’ll check it out,” he assured me. 
Yes, well, he couldn’t see everything. 
“I’ll call you as soon as I have something to tell you,” he said, opening the door and hitting the lights on the cruiser. 
He’d better.

~~~

Sweet Tea and Spirits:

Southern Ghost Hunter Mysteries

By Angie Fox

I had finished my week-long ReadaThon of this entire series during a much-needed spring break... But when I saw that the latest novel had just been published, I immediately stopped and went out to download that final book (for now). I knew I was hooked!

But I am certainly happy to have done so...This is by far, for me, the best of the best! It's a complex murder mystery, as well as an amazing paranormal tale--ok--a still greater ghost story than all of the previous ones...👀

Which only served to make me become happy when I saw that the author had already begun on the next book...

Verity gets a call at the same time the police learn of a breakin at the local Historical Society... Verity's call indicated that there had been a murder! Only thing, when the police got there, there wasn't anybody around. Soooo, who had called Verity? Or better, "how" did the caller use the telephone?

This is a story where humans really meet ghosts...they are all around the historical building, with even an old ignored cemetery... I'll let Verity tell you what she sees there, but the word to think is...creepy...

The woman who had been killed was the new president of the society, replacing the last, our female villain of the town, and the mother of both men in Verity's love life, who sued Verity when she left her baby at the altar... She had been president for at least ten years, the loss quite upsetting, especially since she'd taken all the records from the library into the building only to be lost...

But that didn't stop then discovering the secret that those records revealed. And that was a doozy of a surprise!

Nor did it result in not solving the murder mystery that pulled everything together...

One of the most delightful parts of this book is the shenanigans that Frankie starts...the ghost who comes back to town and gets into an argument with Frankie who threatens to kill him...deader this time...LOL And, dare I reveal that Frankie finds a ghost girlfriend?! Yes! you need to know to prove how super-cool this latest book is...It is my personal favorite not only of the series, but of the year's read books.  So it had to be added to my 2017 personal favorite lists...

Fox has handled this series in an outstanding, exemplary manner. She makes sure that each book stands alone, providing sufficient background information that is, importantly, not merely a rewrite. Her back story flows within the new book, revealing information which is duplicative but not tedious to series followers.

Character development is extraordinary. Each ghost has a background story that makes you care for them. There was one particular ghost in this book that had been in town during the time her grandmother had been alive. Since the dominating ghost shows the site where he or she is as he saw it when he was alive, Verity, for the first time, was able to see the entire family estate as it once was... This was such a cool idea to add, in my opinion, given that over the years much of the land had been sold off before the home was inherited by Verity... Kinda wish I could have a ghost show me what my property looked like which had been in the family for over 100 years... 

You know when you've followed every book in a series, it soon becomes like a well-known family. Aaron Paul Lazar has the skill to do that with his various series that I follow. This is the first by another author, but definitely inspires the same feelings... Already I'm hoping that Frankie will become a permanent house guest...somehow...

Highly recommended for series lovers, especially if you do it like I did and read the entire series in a week...I never tired of moving on to the next story, and only stopped to eat and sleep... Now that's what I call a refreshing and wonderful spring break. Try it with this series...You definitely won't be sorry!


GABixlerReviews

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Angie Fox writes sweet, fun, action-packed paranormal mystery and romance. Her characters are clever and fearless, but in real life, Angie is afraid of basements, bees, and going up stairs when it is dark behind her. Let's face it. Angie wouldn't last five minutes in one of her books.

Angie is best known for her Southern Ghost Hunter mysteries and for her Accidental Demon Slayer books. She lives in St. Louis, with her football-addicted husband, two kids, and Moxie the dog.

Sign up here: http://eepurl.com/bUrBDT to find out when her next release is coming out.

Visit Angie online:
Website: www.angiefox.com
Twitter: www.twitter.com/AngieFoxauthor
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/176533609089557

Dog Gone Ghost by Angie Fox is Dog-Gone Great!

...I grabbed my bowl of strawberries and headed for the woodpile. I’d probably need every last one of them to coax Lucy out this time. I was searching for that tuft of tail when I heard a car crunching down the side driveway. Interesting. I wasn’t expecting anyone. 
Then again, this was Sugarland, where friends and neighbors felt free to drop by anytime. It was one of the things I loved about this place. But I didn’t recognize the gray Honda Civic that pulled up on the opposite side of the ghost car, or at least where I believed it to be. It was interesting how the living instinctively tended to avoid the dead. 
An African American girl with natural hair and cat-eye glasses slid out of the car. I tried to place her and knew I recognized her from town. She smiled at me and slammed the door, showing off thin arms and a honey badger tattoo. 
“Hiya!” she said by way of introduction. “I hope I’m not interrupting. I’m Bree LaMont.” 
Now I remembered her. She was friends with the woman who owned the New For You resale shop downtown. I’d solved a haunting there a while back. I lifted my bowl and then glanced at the woodpile. “I’ve got a little critter I’m trying to catch.” 
Her gaze darted to the logs. “Friendly or feisty?” she asked, growing serious, careful. 

“Both,” I said, smiling. “It’s my pet skunk, Lucy. We were trying out a harness for the first time and she got spooked.” I’d leave out the part about the ghost. Bree crouched in front of the woodpile as if she’d done this before, which was… impossible. She tilted her head. 
“I see little Lucy,” she said, her tone warming. Bree smacked her lips. Once. Twice. It didn’t make any sense. I saw the flash of a tail. That’s it, love,” she murmured, graduating to a harsh purr that sounded like part skunk, part cat. Lucy’s nose poked out from under a log. Bree purred deeper, and Lucy wriggled out from under the woodpile. A grin tickled the side of Bree’s lips as my little skunk toddled straight into her arms. “That’s it,” she said, embracing her, “Good girl.” 
“How did you do that?” I asked, crouching next to her to pet my skunk. Bree stroked Lucy’s silky fur, stopping to flick out the occasional piece of tree bark. 
“I called her like her mamma would. It helps that Lucy’s the adventurous sort.” She stroked the soft spot behind her ear. “You’re a curious one, aren’t you?” 
“And you’re the skunk whisperer,” I told her, amazed to see them both perfectly content. Believe it or not, some folks in town had issue with Lucy being a skunk. They labeled her as a menace before they even bothered to get to know her. 
“I work for the Sugarland Animal Sanctuary,” Bree said, standing, with Lucy in her arms. “But in college, I volunteered with the Smoky Mountains Wildlife Rescue Center in Gatlinburg. We saw a fair number of Lucy’s country cousins.”
“Let’s sit up on the porch,” I suggested. Lucy was going to get heavy in a second and Bree showed no sign of putting her down. “I don’t have any sweet tea brewed.” In fact, I didn’t have any tea or sugar in the house. I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment. Southern hospitality called for me to have something to offer my guest, but the money for extras this month had gone toward securing Lucy a bit of exercise. “I can get you a big glass of iced water.”
“I’m fine, thanks,” she said, joining me on the porch. She winced a bit and seemed to hesitate for a moment. “What I really need is a favor.” 
“All right,” I said, sitting on the swing with her. I’d do my best. She drew Lucy a bit closer to her chest and the skunk snuggled in tight. “We have a dangerous situation at the animal sanctuary. A ghost. Word around town is that you handle that sort of thing.” 
“I do. In fact, I just started a new ghost-hunting business,” I told her. Even before I’d gone pro, Frankie and I had done a lot of good. We’d caught more than one killer, we’d reunited a World War Two soldier with his sweetheart, and we’d even solved a decades-old mystery at a haunted mansion. 
“My boss forbade me to call you,” she admitted, her fingers twining in Lucy’s fur. “We don’t have the money for this sort of thing and he doesn’t even believe in ghosts. But I saw something last night that needs fixing, no matter what he thinks.” 
“You can tell me,” I assured her. 
Lucy curled her soft tail around Bree’s arm and the woman stroked it. “We’ve had trouble this past week with animals getting out of their cages at night. Dogs, mostly. But sometimes cats and rabbits. We had a guinea pig go loose last night and that’s dangerous. The animals could hurt themselves or each other. My boss thinks it’s the cages or that we’re not locking them tight enough, but it’s not. Someone or something is letting the animals out.” 
I believed her. Bree didn’t seem like the type to forget to lock the cages. “What did you see last night?” I pressed. She drew tight and then blew out a breath. 
“I brought a sleeping bag to work last night and I stayed. I’ve done it before for sick animals or for an animal that’s having trouble adjusting.” She seemed unsure and I nodded for her to continue. “We have a separate area for the dogs. I set up in the hallway outside the dog kennels. I kept the lights on and even managed to get a few hours’ sleep. But at about three in the morning, the kennels started opening by themselves. It was as if someone was unlatching them, but I didn’t see anybody.” 
“It’s okay,” I said, placing a hand over her trembling one. “I believe you.” Her eyes had gone glassy. “You’re probably the only one who would. It was freaky. And it’s bad for our animals and I don’t know what to do...”

~~~

Dog Gone Ghost:

Southern Ghost Hunter Mysteries Novella

By Angie Fox

If you are reading the series...or if not...this is a delightful, heartwarming story about a boy and his dog...Ok, the boy happens to be a ghost - of a missing child Verity had learned about...

But still when the cages at a local animal sanctuary began to be opened at night, Verity had not yet put the two issues together...Since the book description tells the basic storyline, I'm not giving anything away, except the wonderful vibes you'll be feeling as you read...

First we meet a skunk whisperer who can handle Lucy better than Verity! But she didn't get jealous, because she'd also found the perfect person to help train the skunk...to walk on a leash...which, of course, is not really in a skunk's nature. Of that, I'm just guessing since I only know that I have skunks when I accidentally discern that certain smell...😉 Since there are raccoons, 'possum and cats around my cabin, I guess a skunk could get entangled with a potential enemy once in a while, but I've never really heard animals fighting when that smell is around...guess the other animals have the right reaction! Run!

Bree LaMont works at the animal shelter and knew it had to be a ghost--she'd stayed one night and actually saw the cages being opened and could see nobody doing it... Her main fear was that the animals could get hurt, or even hurt each other. 

And so Verity and Bree went to the Sanctuary to begin the investigation: (Now I just had to share this excerpt--you'll guess why!)

“We’re pressed for space,” Bree said. “Our vet recommended this setup. It was never a problem until…” Until someone began opening the cages. “Show me where you were when it happened,” I told her. She nodded and opened a door at the back. We stepped outside for a moment, under a covered walkway. My eyes had barely adjusted to the dark when we entered the cement-block building I’d seen earlier. We were greeted by a cacophony of dog barks and Lucy startled. “It’s okay,” I said, stroking her. “They’re just saying hello.” We stood at the beginning of a long hallway with fenced-in play yards to the right, eight in all. Most had dog noses pressed against them. I reached through the nearest one and stroked the wet quivering

nose of the small gray mutt who leapt for joy in between pets. She wriggled under my hand, licking me as I tried to stroke her head, her shoulders, whatever I could reach. “That’s Glenda,” Bree said. “I was sleeping here,” she added, standing halfway down the hallway, “when Glenda’s cage just opened.” “Was she scared?” I asked, taking a break from the Glenda love-fest to check the latch. It appeared sturdy. “Glenda was overjoyed,” Bree said, “as were Marvin and Shep— both bassets— and Boomer. We’re not sure what he is.” Her voice caught. “Then I heard a crash in the small-animal room. I rushed in to find Ninja the guinea pig running from Stripe the cat and then Glenda followed me and brought in the hounds.” “Calm down.” She sounded overwhelmed again. “We’ll fix it.”

Wellll, I'd never met a dog named Glenda...and I do hereby swear I've never even read Angie Fox's books before this series... But, really, it's nice to come across your name used for a character in a book, even if I'd prefer to have had a cat named after me!😍

I loved this story... It's a short sweet ghost tale that certainly highlights how the love between animals and their humans can become so important to children... It's, well, Dog-Gone Great! And highly recommended!

GABixlerReviews 

Verity Gets Her First Ghost-Hunting Job! In Deader Homes and Gardens by Angie Fox...

Ellis handed me the phone. 
“It’s Lee Treadwell.” “Interesting,” I said, standing. I had no idea what the elderly gentleman could possibly want. Lee was the last of a long, distinguished family line in town. He owned one of the big, old mansions in the historic area and I hadn’t seen or spoken to him in a while. We didn’t run in the same circles and he certainly wasn’t the type to exchange casseroles for a peek at a ghost hunter. 
“This is Verity Long,” I said, bracing my rear against the counter. Ellis listened to my side of the conversation as he began gathering plates. 
“Sorry to disturb you,” Lee said, his voice low and rough. He was hard to hear with all the static on the line. “I tried your house first, and when you weren’t there, well… word has it you’ve been spending lots of time with young Mr. Wydell.” Sakes alive. “Word does get around,” I agreed. This was Sugarland, after all. “Now that you’ve found me, what can I do for you?” 
He cleared his throat. “I need you to be honest,” he said tersely. “Are you serious about that ghost-hunting business?” 
“Serious as the grave,” I assured him. It might not have been the best choice of words, but I was too focused on the fact that Lee could actually have a job for me. Lee Treadwell was well known in this town, respected. If he hired me, maybe everyone else would start to take me seriously as well. 
Lee exhaled sharply. “I need you to come over right away.”
“Is it an emergency?” I’d need to prepare. “I’ve left my ghost at home.” Frankie couldn’t go anywhere without his urn, which was resting in a barrel full of dirt in my parlor. How it had gotten there was a long story. Suffice it to say, I had no power without him. 
“I’ve stumbled across something peculiar,” Lee said, his voice strained. “I need you to see it. Grab your ghost. Pick up a crucifix while you’re at it, because I don’t think you’ve ever seen anything like this.” 
I’d seen plenty. The newspaper hadn’t revealed all my secrets. “Hang tight,” I told him. “I’ll be over as soon as I can.” 
I hung up. Ellis stood a few feet away, with Lucy snuggled in his arms, her head buried under one of his biceps. “What’s the crisis?” 
“I don’t know yet.” I smiled, despite my trepidation. “But I’ve got my first ghost-hunting job.”

~~~

Deader Homes and Gardens:

Southern Ghost Hunter Mysteries

By Angie Fox

Verity is a gutsy young woman who makes needed decisions in her life... The fact that she has had some really bad situations arise--like a cheating fiancee and a revengeful ex-mother-in-law who sued Verity and forced her to plan on selling everything to pay for the wedding she never had, has never quite completely got her down... Even if the town thought she was crazy for not marrying the most eligible bachelor in town and decided not to offer her opportunities to continue in her freelance design business.

So when she accidentally met Frankie, whose funeral urn had been given as a gift, and she decided to clean it up a little, thinking it was a vase, she had made her way into an entirely, more intriguing job...maybe she could be paid for being a ghost hunter! After all, she'd been successful in several previous criminal cases, right? So in this next novel, Deader Homes and Gardens, when she gets a call from a client who needs her services, she naturally becomes

excited...even if she had no idea what she might be getting into! Yikes! Because, of course, Frankie wasn't so sure that her new job was actually a job he wanted also!

And he wasn't thrilled to be called upon to immediately head out on a job, when he'd plan to relax...

Nevertheless, when Verity takes his urn with her...he must follow...kinda like this gangster has finally been placed in jail, almost!

Lee Treadwell, her new client, lives in a small cottage, behind the main house which has not been used for many years. One of his ancestors had been into Egyptology and the house was still filled with artifacts. But as soon as Jack Treadwell came home, he died... Some said a curse had been placed on him after opening a tomb of a lost king... During the years more Treadwells died...

It didn't take long for Verity and Frankie to see at least two women who were still residents in the house... one was thought to be the housekeeper and the other a younger woman... Until, finally, Lee decided not to live in the main house anymore...

So why was he calling now?

...but now, something else is happening.” He stood. “Come on. I’ll show you what I mean.” He walked me into the small kitchen and held the back door open. Tiny goose bumps erupted along my arms as the chill of the approaching night settled over me. “You’re not going to believe this,” he promised. “Try me,” I said, glad to give him someone he could confide in. We stepped onto the brick walk out back. Planter boxes lined the way, filled with colorful blooms. I touched my fingertips to a dusting of Goldilocks daisies thrusting out in shoots from a young crop of purple fountain grass. “What have you seen out here?” I asked, on heightened alert should Jack’s ghost appear in the vegetable garden just ahead, or from the small grape arbor to our left. “This is my space,” Lee said, his steps guarded as he led me out into the night. “The family spirits stick to their side.” I could almost hear Frankie rolling his eyes. Most ghosts went wherever they pleased, evidenced by my gangster buddy gliding straight through a row of tomato stakes. I kept close to Lee, on a dirt path between the slim pea sprouts and leafy butter lettuce. “This is lovely,” I told him, careful to avoid the delicate plants. I could tell he’d put a lot of care into his garden. “I appreciate you saying so,” he said, glancing back at me. “Since I’ve retired, I’ve been working to reclaim some of the land, as much as I can handle. The disturbances happen just beyond the cultivated parts of the property.” I stared out at the abandoned mansion on the other side of the hilltop. A high-pitched wail echoed across the expanse, like a wounded animal. It shouldn’t have startled me, but it did. It even gave Frankie pause. He listened carefully as the cry faded. “That’s more lonely soul than angry soul,” he said, as if trying to reassure himself. “Lovely.” I took a step back when a loud crackling echoed from the mansion. Frankie glanced at me. “I have no clue what that is.” He shoved his hands into his pockets in an attempt to hide his discomfort. Not much rattled the old gangster, and it scared me that this place gave him pause. Stone popped and timber creaked, as if the house struggled against its foundation. “It’s been doing that more and more,” Lee muttered. “We’ll figure it out,” I said, fighting to keep the fear out of my voice. I mean, at least the ghosts were active and perhaps attempting to communicate. “Maybe they’re disturbed by the changes you’re starting to make.”

This latest novel was the most scariest in my opinion... After all, add a curse on top of a house full of ghosts, it's easy to foresee lots of strange doings!  And the first strange thing was an old fountain that had not been used for years...Now water was flowing--from the eyes of the statue, not the pitcher from which it would normally flow... and the flow of the water? It was slowly filling up to cover... dozens of doll heads, torn from their bodies!

 I must admit that I would have loved to be Verity as she walked into a haunted mansion filled with items that, really, had been stolen from Egypt. But can you imagine going through not only a haunted house, but one which had a curse placed on it? OK, I'm probably not brave enough to do it, but it was easy to imagine as more and more of the history of the mansion and the events that were happening now come to light...Spooooky!

In order to begin trying to resolve the problem, Verity soon had her sister Melody researching what she could find about the history of the Treadwell family and estate...

In the meantime, Verity had to adjust to not being paid for her first job, except in vegetables and fruits from Lee's beautiful garden...at least, Verity thought, Lucy, her pet skunk, would be thrilled with fresh fruits. And it would save money Verity didn't really have, for food... Good thing Frankie didn't eat...much...

If you enjoy ghostly shenanigans more than the heartwarming type, then this latest book is for you! The mystery is more complex and provocative and certainly grabs your interest, while producing some delightful goosebumps! Highly recommend and this one would be a good one to start reading if you haven't already been following the series! But there's still more to come! Keep watching, 'cause Dog Gone Ghost, a short story, is next.

GABixlerReviews 

Book 3 - The Haunted Heist - by Angie Fox!

I kept both hands on the soaking wet skunk in my kitchen sink while a small tsunami of water sloshed over the front of my pink sweater set and white jeans. Bath time wasn’t Lucy’s favorite recreational activity, and by extension it wasn’t mine, either. As I readjusted my grip, she braced her back legs for a wild leap onto the counter. “Lucy,” I admonished, nudging an eggshell off her petite, velvety ear, “it wasn’t my idea for you to go digging in the compost bin.” She grunted and wriggled while I slid her into a soft mound of soap bubbles and washed day-old banana off her cheeks. My little girl loved fruit and would take it any way she could get it. “You’re almost done,” I told her, rinsing the double white stripe on her back with the hand spout while she tried to eat a soap bubble. I nearly had her calm when the spirit of my

gangster housemate shimmered into view next to me. Frankie “The German” appeared in black and white, like an old movie, but I could see through him. Almost. Lucy jerked at the presence of the ghost and launched into a rolling twist that soaked me to my elbows. “Lucille Désirée Long,” I warned, regaining my grip on her. 

Frankie smoothed his 1920s-style pinstripe suit and straightened his fat tie. His long face and sharp nose made him appear every bit the utterly ruthless gangster he had been when he was alive. It would have scared me if I didn’t know him. 

“We got company.” The ghost cocked his head, and I heard the faint crunch of gravel. “A black sedan creeping down the side drive.” 

Strange. “I wasn’t expecting anyone.” 

“I got this,” he said, shoulders stiffening as he drew a revolver out of his coat pocket. 

“Frankie, wait—” It was eight in the morning. I doubted we were under attack. Frankie ducked through the back wall and out onto the porch. Lucy used my split second of distraction to break for the counter. She made it halfway across before I snagged a clean towel off the kitchen island and captured her behind the toaster. I snuggled my skunk close and towel dried her fur as I peeked out the window over the sink. A black Mercedes parked out back. 

My friend Lauralee sat in the passenger seat. Frankie holstered his gun when he saw her exit the car. 

I gripped my skunk a little tighter when Lauralee’s uncle Reggie, the big-time banker, emerged from the driver’s side. Here I stood, drenched in skunk water, with one of the most powerful men in Sugarland about to knock on my door. Lauralee had seen me at my worst, but Reggie was another matter. He’d never encountered me in anything more casual than a summer dress at a picnic. I set Lucy down on the floor. Her wet fur stood out at all angles around her scrawny little body. She appeared half her usual size when wet. “Oh my, sweetie. 

We’ve got to fix this,” I told her. Not her hair or mine. Those were lost causes. But I could still put the last of the coffee on and then raid the laundry room for a dry sweater. I was on my way to dig through my laundry pile of limited options when a horrible sight stopped me in my tracks. 

In all the excitement, it had quite slipped my mind that a huge black outdoor trash can occupied the space where my kitchen table used to stand. Worse, rich garden dirt filled it to the brim and provided a home for one very large, teetering, heirloom red rosebush. How to explain… 

I chewed my lip as my guests started up the walk. I certainly couldn’t tell them the truth: that I’d trapped the spirit of a long-dead gangster in my house and that this was part of our attempt to free him. Lauralee might understand if I could convince her ghosts were real. But Reggie would think I’d lost my mind. He was respectable, proper. He’d come back home from Chicago to take over the oldest bank in town. And if he told another soul in Sugarland, my secret would be out before suppertime. There simply had to be a way to handle this. 

I’d hide it in the parlor. Curling my fingers around the edge of the trash can, I pulled hard. It slid… a bit. It was heavier than I’d imagined. I gritted my teeth, wincing as my arm stretched half out of its socket while I dragged the can one foot, two feet, almost three… 

“Where do you think you’re going with that?” Frankie demanded.

“We have to hide… you,” I said, having no time to sugarcoat it. It was either that or reveal his final resting place to my guests. Then I’d have to somehow explain that I’d mistaken Frankie’s urn for a dirty old vase and dumped his ashes out into my rosebushes, grounding him on my property. And that we’d moved him inside for safekeeping. “Please step aside.” I could walk through him, but it would give both of us an icy shock. 

“I ain’t going anywhere.” He removed his white Panama hat. “Those are my ashes you’re messing with.” He pointed his hat at the mess. “My urn.” Heavens to Betsy, we’d left his urn nestled at the bottom of the rosebush. I met Frankie trash-can-to-hips, eye-to-eye, trying not to let my gaze wander to the neat, round bullet hole smack dab in the middle of his pasty white forehead. He hadn’t gotten it by being a nice guy. 

“Please, Frankie,” I said, praying he had a sliver of gentleman in him, “I’m not ready to explain this to company.”

“You don’t got much of a choice. That can ain’t budging.” Frankie glided toward the back wall while I took hold of the trash can and pulled with all my might until I succeeded in tugging it into the parlor. Except the parlor held my only piece of furniture suitable for entertaining company— a purple velvet couch I’d gotten in exchange for solving a ghostly problem. Frankie shoved his head through the back wall and whistled. “Smokes. Get a load of that sharp suit.” 

“Frankie!” I protested. “You’re not helping.” He didn’t even bother to take his head out of the wall. “You know I can’t move anything on the mortal plane.” That wasn’t the point. I put my butt to the can and pushed backward, nudging it toward an out-of-the-way out-of-the-way corner. It slid two feet, then two more, probably leaving a mud spot on my white pants. Nobody but me could see Frankie, and if I could just get rid of the evidence… 

“The big cheese is coming up the porch steps,” Frankie called. “Spit-shined shoes. Ritzy watch. I do like his style,” he added, almost to himself. “What do you suppose he wants with you?” My sneakers slipped on the hardwood. Dirt spilled from the top of the can. I’d barely made it past the fireplace. “Your friend’s carrying a box. They’re at the door now.” 

No. A knock sounded. We were out of time. The lower branches of the rosebush flopped toward my face as I forced the can back against the wall by the antique marble fireplace in the parlor. In one smooth move, I grabbed the bedsheet from the futon and tossed it over the rosebush. “There.” 

“That looks worse,” Frankie said.

It would have to do. I frantically brushed dirt from my white jeans and wet sweater, and tried to pat down my hair as I hurried to answer the door. 

Lucy, who loved visitors, ran from the main hallway to join me. She grunted with excitement, her scraggly little body churning with each step. 

Oh, to be a skunk without a mirror. I opened the door and tried for my most carefree smile. “Good morning!”

!!!

The Haunted Heist:

The Southern Ghost Hunter Mysteries

By Angie Fox

The Beginning of Book 3 of The Southern Ghost Hunter Mysteries gives readers the perfect opportunity to get to know the lighter side of Verity's living with her housemates - Lucy and Frankie. You see, we open with Verity having to give a bath to Lucy for getting in their garden compost and now being covered by the mixture...banana peelings, egg shells and all!😒

And just for good measure, Frankie pops in next to the two of them--Lucy does not like Frankie and she struggles to run away...

So that when Verity has the first warning of company visiting, she is, ah, not exactly looking like it's time to meet and greet...

Lauralee was one of her best friends, so she didn't mind her visiting, but she had brought her uncle, who had come back to Sugarland to take over the town's bank... Thankfully, Reggie was a good man and handled Verity's embarrassment in a gentlemanly fashion. And by the time the visit was over Verity was scheduled to meet with him about a job at the bank! A real job, using her design expertise! 

Only thing is, when she was in the midst of the interview, Reggie was called to another floor for an emergency situation... And died... You get the feeling that Verity is going to be chasing more ghosts for an even longer time!

Soooooo, here's a trick question! What happens if you're in the midst of digging a tunnel to rob a bank, and you die?
Well, you become a ghost and keep on digging...

Now, employees at the bank had been hearing noises in the vault for quite some time and they had wanted the new president to hear it as well, hoping they'd be able to discover what it was--was the bank haunted?

Well, of course it was--at least by one lonely ghost who hadn't been out of a tunnel for years... But, when Verity had run down to see what was happening and saw the body, and those there, she felt it had to have been one of those individuals, especially after talking with Frankie and having him check things out with his friends. Only thing was, there were marks on his body that were the signature of a known criminal, and using his normal method of operation... Of course he was dead...

Still, Frankie was happy with it all...his friend, Suds, who'd died in the tunnel, was found and Frankie broke the news that he was dead. Still, it did free him and wouldn't you know it, Suds was soon often a visitor to Verity's house...

Then there's the jilted mother-in-law who discovers Verity having dinner with another son!

Her expression hardened. “I thought you learned your lesson the first time when I took you for everything you had,” she drawled. “I’ll do it again if you’d like. Just give me an excuse.” Her lips twisted into a faint smile as she closed the door. I turned and walked away, and I kept going, even when I heard Ellis’s voice as I opened my car door. “Verity?” He sounded surprised and harried. Ellis wore a flannel work shirt, jeans, and a fine dusting of plaster that would have been endearing if he hadn’t appeared almost as frightened as he was confused at my sudden appearance on his front porch. “I have to go,” I said as his mother stepped onto the porch behind him, her arms crossed in front of her. I’d had a bad day and knew better than to stay for round two with Virginia. I’d come to him bruised and battered enough. And I believed her threat. She would enjoy hurting me.

Now you've got to admit, the minor plots in this series are outrageously enjoyable...A Pet skunk, ghost house guests, a furious jilted-to-be-mother-in-law who is not only vengeful but willing to act to ruin Verity's life in any way she can!

Plus a murder mystery to be solved. And instead of starting a new advertising campaign for the bank president, Verity is once again helping to solve the latest mystery by working with her unseen "confidential informants..." This mystery is complex, intriguing, and certainly surprising as it develops, as secrets start coming out from both humans...and...ghosts!

Delightfully entertaining! A winning series from an excellent mystery writer!


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Ghost of a Chance, a Novella, is Next in Ghost Hunter Mysteries Series

The smell of fresh-baked sugar cookies filled my kitchen, and the tinny sound  singing “White Christmas” echoed from my outdated iPhone. Behind me, the ghost of a 1920s gangster hovered while I pulled the last hot tray from the oven. “Move. I don’t want to burn you,” I said automatically, realizing only afterward how ridiculous it sounded. Any object—hot or otherwise—would pass straight through the specter. 

Frankie appeared in black and white, his image transparent enough that I could just make out the cooling trays on the kitchen island behind him. He wore a pin-striped suit coat with matching cuffed trousers and a fat tie. He inhaled as if he could smell the crisp, warm cookies. 

“That’s a killer batch, right there,” he observed while I jockeyed around him, “but I gotta tell you, most of the gun barrels are crooked.” 

I winked, surprising him. “Everybody’s a critic.” 

I’d given in to holiday cheer and let him tell me how to shape the last of the dough, and he’d chosen the things he loved most. Which meant I had a baking sheet full of revolvers, cigarettes, and booze bottles—all oddly shaped because, truly, who has cookie cutters for that sort of thing? I placed the tray on a rack to start cooling, glad I’d included the surly gangster in my holiday festivities. 

He was technically a house guest until I could find a way to free him. Although I had no clue what I was going to do with his contraband cookies. I couldn’t eat them all or explain them away to guests. 

“What’s next?” he asked before I’d even transferred one cookie off the baking tray, never mind the dough-flecked countertops or the dishes. The man obviously hadn’t spent much time in the kitchen before. 

“Why don’t you go outside and look at the holiday lights?” I suggested. Perhaps that would get him into the spirit of the season. My sister, Melody, had lent me a few strands of white ones in the shape of magnolia flowers. I’d foraged some lovely greenery from the woods and done up the front and back porches with pine garlands and homemade balsam wreaths. I’d been too broke to buy ready-made decorations, but these looked nicer anyway. anyway. 

He snarled at the suggestion that he might be entertained by pretty decorations. “I’m Frankie the German,” he clipped out, as if his words themselves should command respect. “Men fear me. Women want me.” 

“I’m very happy for you,” I said, trying to straighten out a revolver barrel as I gently transferred the cookies to the cooling rack. “But this is the holiday season. It’s the perfect time to take a break from inspiring fear. Try to live a little,” I suggested, ignoring his scowl. 

“How about I finish cleaning the kitchen, and afterward you can challenge me to a game of chess.” Otherwise, he’d get bored and start making cold spots all over my kitchen. It felt nice in the summer, but right now, it would ruin the yeast bread I had rising. 

He clenched and unclenched his hands a few times. “All right,” he said, eyeing me as he glided through the stove and out to the back porch. His voice lingered in the air behind him. “You know I won’t go far.” 

“Do I ever,” I murmured. It was my fault he couldn’t leave.

~~~

Ghost of a Chance:

Southern Ghost Hunter Mysteries Novella

By Angie Fox

Verity was just finishing up making Christmas cookies when she heard a

knock at the door. Her sister Melody normally came right in, so she called out, thinking it was Ellis. Only to find that a ghost was standing at the door! This ghost, by the way, was very powerful and was able to leave his home and even touch items in the mortal world. Still, Verity was quite surprised to have her friend, Major Matthew Jackson of the Union Army, visiting!

I didn't introduce you to Josephine yet, did I? Well, she was a young woman who had been befriended by Verity in an earlier book. And when Matthew and Josephine first met each other, it was instant...attraction...

So with Christmas coming, Matthew wanted help in getting a present for Josephine. A very nice gesture, Verity thought... But he didn't want to give her just any present. He wanted to give her a pearl necklace that had belonged to his mother and which was promised to Matthew for the woman he fell in love with. Verity guessed; and Matthew confirmed that he was going to ask Josephine to marry him at Christmas...

By the way, most of the ghosts in this series are earth bound for one reason or another, but others, when they've died, automatically have gone into the light...

There was only one problem, the necklace was in the 7th generation home of the Jacksons, one of the most important families in Sugarland!

This is another heartbreaker story, since there had been a final disagreement between Matthew and his mother, when he had chosen to fight for the Yankees, and she had banned him from ever coming back home!

One of the best things about this series is Verity and how she now has an ability to talk to ghosts, but it is the action and dialogue created by the author in her ghost hunting activities that makes the series a winner. Sure, she's scared, but she's gutsy and won't go back on a promise once she says she'll help. In this case, she helps not only Matthew and Josephine, but... well, I highly recommend you get this short story if you haven't previously read any of the series. It's an excellent example of what Verity is all about in both helping her town of Sugarland and in helping earth-bound ghosts find happiness! 

And there're all so much fun to read, with an underlying humor between characters Verity and Frankie...and with the various ghosts, at least after they get over trying to be scary...😟 Enjoy!


GABixlerReviews

Short Story Spotlights Ghost Soldier's Heartbreak...by Angie Fox

Frankie and I both turned when we heard knocking on the front door. "It's me," my sister called. The hinges squeaked as Melody let herself in. I hadn't expected her tonight, but that didn't mean anything. She passed through my empty front room and straight into the parlor. Her blond hair was up in a messy bun and she carried a Tupperware container. "Hi Verity. Hi Frankie."
I stood and gave her a hug. "How'd you know he was around?" I asked. Half the time, Frankie disappeared into the ether, or wherever ghosts went. 
"He always backs your queen into a corner," she said. Frankie groaned. "Aw, come on." 
I looked back at the chessboard, trying to see where I was in trouble, but found myself distracted when Melody handed me the delicious smelling container. "Mmm… roasted potatoes, onions," I pulled open the lid, "gravy," I added with pure delight. 
"I made too much pot roast," she said, as if it happened all the time. She was lying through her teeth. Melody could barely bake a chicken. When it wasn't under cooked or scorched to a crisp, she'd forget and leave the giblets packet in the middle. Ever since my sister found out I was living on ramen noodles and granola bars, she'd been buying ready-to-go grocery meals, boxing them up in Tupperware and delivering them to me under the guise of Martha Stewart. 
"Thanks," I told her, keeping up the façade. Otherwise, she'd move on to phase two, which would be her trying to give me money she didn't have. She chewed at her bottom lip. 
"I have to confess. I'm not just here to give you dinner this time." She cringed. "My friend needs help with a ghost." Frankie barked out a laugh. "Fantastic. She'll do it." 
Good thing Melody couldn't see him, or hear him. I shot him a hairy eyeball. He looked much too pleased with himself, hovering over by the fireplace. "This… thing I do," I said, returning my attention to Melody, "it has to be a secret." 
People in our small southern town already believed I was an odd duck. I'd be crazy to add to the gossip. Besides, the work was dangerous and scary. I was a graphic designer by trade. "I need design jobs." 
"How's that going?" she mused, knowing the answer. Not so well. Ever since I'd offended the first family of Sugarland Tennessee by leaving their son at the altar, my freelance business had dried up. Now I was secretly dating his brother, Ellis. I didn't know how things could get worse, but I was willing to bet they would if that little nugget got out. Or if I started chasing ghosts. I headed for the kitchen with my dinner. Melody followed. "The good news is she can't pay you anyway." 
"This is getting better and better," I mused. Melody flipped on the lights. "She does have a nice pre-owned kitchen set she'll give you," she added, grabbing my lone plastic plate out of a drying rack by the sink. "This is my friend Julie from high school."
"I like her." Julie had always been nice to me. She owned a resale shop downtown. The store carried some fancy, high-end antiques, but much of the merchandise consisted of good, gently used items. Still… I took the plate from my sister and slid the entire pot roast meal onto it. "What does Julie want me to do?" 
My sister leaned against the counter. "The store has always been haunted. She'll leave at night and come back to find pennies stacked up on her cash register. Or she'll open up in the morning and smell cigar smoke. One time, she watched an entire display of antique doorknobs start shaking like we were having an earthquake or something. A customer saw it too." "Yikes." I located a fork and arranged my meal on the kitchen island. "It sounds like she has more than one ghost," I said digging in. "And if the place has been haunted for a while, they might even think the shop is theirs." Spirits tended to get possessive after decades in the same place...

~~~

New For You was a second-hand local store that was owned by a friend of Verity's sister...and she was having ghost problems...

Verity pointed out to Melody, her sister, that her being involved in ghostly issues was supposed to have been kept a secret...But Verity, Melody, and especially Frankie, all knew she needed some money. Of course, Julie couldn't afford to pay her, but she could give her a dinette set. 

Verity was slowly trying to acquire furniture after she'd been sued by her ex-to-be-mother-in-law for leaving her darling son at the altar... So, having some place to sit in her kitchen certainly was worth a short job...

Besides, Julie wasn't interested in getting rid of all of the ghosts she knew were in her building... Just the one that was causing some damage in a display case with more expensive items.

In order to see the ghosts, which also changes the setting to the way it looked when the dominant ghost had last seen it, Frankie gives Verity a "zap" of his ghostly energy. So when they reached the second-hand shop, they soon were in a bar with a number of clients drinking and chatting. Once they realized that Verify could see them, many started hitting on her, some very aggressively! Verity wasn't interested...

The squicky ghost smoothed his mustache while undressing me with his eyes. "Well, hello there," he said, winking. "Your name must be Lucky Charms because you're magically

delicious." I turned to Frankie. "Did he really just say that?" "You started this," Frankie said, with no sympathy at all. "I tried to stop you."

Finally after wading through seemingly endless male ghosts who hadn't seen a live woman for decades, she noticed a WWII soldier, Private John Cleveland,  sitting alone and Verity thought she had found the right man... only to connect with him and learn of his heartbreaking story of love lost...

And all of a sudden, Verity was on a missing person case, not knowing whether it was for a living or dead young lost fiance...

This type of story makes you ponder, especially about our soldiers who are killed in action, fighting for peace... and how the lives of many people can be affected by a sudden death. Verity took a special interest in this case when he shared that the ring that he had given her before he left for war had shown up in the second-half shop, just recently!

Verity was thrilled to have the opportunity to help this kind, loving Private!

This is one of the more special heartwarming stories that I really enjoyed and believe you will too... Highly recommended! Next review will be on another full novel in the series... 


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