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!


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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

The Skeleton in the Closet, Third Story in Series by Angie Fox...and Lovin' My Readathon!

I closed my eyes, breathing the clean fall air still tinged with the warmth of the fading summer. And I nearly ran smack-dab into the large Civil War reproduction cannon sponsored by the Sugarland Heritage Society. In my defense, it hadn't been there yesterday. The lawn outside the library— heck, the entire town square— had been transformed. With good reason. Today was the first day of the annual Cannonball in the Wall Festival.
 As far as parties went, Cannonball in the Wall Day was right up there with Christmas, Easter, and the biscuits-and-gravy breakfast at Lulabelle Mason's house. 
This year would be even better. A History channel documentary crew had rolled into town to film the celebration, and it seemed every man, woman, and child from four counties had descended on us like bees to honey butter. "Melody?" I called, spotting a blonde with a ponytail through the crowd. I strained to get a better look. "Melody!" I waved. 
The woman turned and I realized it wasn't my sister. This perky blonde was an actress I'd seen on television. I didn't know whether to be impressed or frustrated. I'd told Melody I'd meet her near the library, but that was before we realized what a spectacle this year's event was going to be. It might take some doing to pick her out of the larger-than-usual crowd. 
I ran a hand along the gun barrel of the old cannon, over the layers of caked-on paint, warm from the sun. During the war, Tennessee was one of the most divided states in the nation, and our boys had gone off to fight on both sides. That left the town vulnerable when the Yankee army came through in 1863. The local militia fought to keep everyone safe, but our homes and businesses were on fire all around them. We thought it was over when the Yankees got their cannon up and shot straight into the town square. 
Wouldn't you know it, that ball did not explode. It lodged deep in the wall of the Sugarland Library for everyone to see. That small victory gave our ancestors the extra bit of spit and vinegar they needed to drive the invaders out and save our town. The preacher at the time declared it a miracle. While I wasn't so sure faulty explosives qualified as the hand of God, the entire town had assembled to celebrate every year since. We'd come together— people of all different backgrounds and walks of life— and we'd saved the place we loved. The Cannonball in the Wall Festival reminded us to be grateful for that. A smile tickled my lips and I couldn't help but gaze at the rusting iron cannonball still embedded in the white limestone near the foundation of the historic library. Soon everyone would know our story.
"Five dollars for a picture with the cannonball," barked a scratchy voice to my right. I turned to find Ovis Dupre's thin, bent frame nearly on top of me. The old man didn't understand the concept of personal space. Instead, he drew even closer with his vintage Polaroid. 
"No, thank you," I said, doing my best to duck around him while taking care to be kind. He meant well. Besides, I couldn't afford to alienate any of my neighbors after a recent event had left my reputation a little questionable...

~~~

The Skeleton in the Closet: 

The Southern Ghost Hunter Mysteries

By Angie Fox

Folklore developed in a community can drawn people together in celebration--whether that folklore is true or not. That was the case when The Cannonball in the Wall became an annual celebration for the town of Sugarland. Of course, the cannonball in question happened to be shot into the side of the town library...but that's part of the story yet to be considered...

Everybody in town was involved in the preparation, especially Melody, Verity's sister, who worked at the library. Exhibits of family antiques and other valuables of the time period were to be placed on display. Two of the oldest families soon began to compete on how big (and, of course, the best) their individual displays were... And, so it was that, the town's volunteer of the year, and others, were soon overwhelmed to create acceptable exhibit areas within the library itself. Soon all of the volunteers had left for the night. Only Darla Grace remained.

But before she finally left, she had called Melody early morning and explained that she'd found something very important and needed to share it as quickly as possible... Melody asked Verity to go with her to help with the remaining work on the displays. But when they got to the library, Darla Grace wasn't there to greet them...

"I was here until almost two this morning. I could barely see straight." We headed for the back door of the building. "Even then, Darla Grace wouldn't quit. Not that I'm one to do anything halfway, but let's just say that when this woman volunteers, she volunteers. I left her sorting through an antique secretary." 

I took a sip of the drink. It was hot, delicious. "That does sound kind of fun." I loved looking through antiques. Melody swung the door open. "True. But Darla Grace really does need to learn when enough is enough," she said. "She left me a message at three this morning, saying I had to get back down here. She'd found something urgent." Melody took a fortifying sip of coffee. "Luckily, I didn't get the voice mail until I woke up," she added under her breath. "What could be so important in a bunch of old letters?" 

"Maybe you'll have to expand the exhibit again," I said, half joking. I loved history as much as the next person, but preserving it should be a labor of love, not this battle between the families. Every light in the library blazed. "You're going to have to preserve this month's electric bill for posterity," I said, trying to get her to smile a little. "It'll be epic." I was glad to see Melody's mouth tug into a grin as we walked down a back hallway and up the stairs to the main level. 

"It'll be fine," she said. "I just worry about Darla sometimes. She needs to learn to take it easy and treat herself better. Maybe I could teach her some of my yoga stretches." "And hope she survives." Melody was as bendy as an acrobat. 

I pushed open the doorway to the main reading room and let my sister enter first. "Darla," she called, "we're here." Velvet-covered tables spanned the edges of the historic high-ceilinged room, which was packed with artfully displayed Civil War muskets, family albums, and letters sent home by long-dead war heroes. Headless mannequins stood in full military uniform. The room appeared even larger now that

they'd taken out all the heavy wood tables. The catering company would replace them with sleek serving stations for the banquet. 
My footsteps echoed in the cavernous space..."It was all in someone's attic last month," Melody said. 
"Try yesterday." I snorted. One of the display cards proudly declared its contents as part of "How the Jacksons Saved Sugarland."
"The Wydells are on the other side," Melody said, sipping her coffee.

"Of course." We wouldn't want their artifacts to mingle. "Maybe Darla finally went home," Melody said. "Although if that was the case, I wish she would have locked up." She ventured past me. "I'm going to head into the donations room and see how far she got."

~~~

Verity was the one to see the shoe...They found her under one of the display tables, obviously dead for some time...

And since she had been there alone, there were no witnesses... except...of course, any ghosts haunting the library!

Since the library had been used during the war as a hospital, this story is sadder than some others since the place was filled with beds, patients, and nurses, all continuing to go through the life they had during that time period. Of course,

Frankie joined a card game of a small group and got the conversation going. Verity soon learned that one of the ghosts who was normally shut off from the rest because he was a Yankee had said that he'd seen it happened... "The beast insisted he saw a man use a bayonet on a lady," he said. "She had a discovery that would change everything. We told him he was wallpapered."

But he was back now in the lower floors of the library where he lived and nobody was going to show her the way there...

She found him reading Interview with the Vampire. And with Verity immediately exclaiming that she loved the book, a new friendship was born...

Of course, the police continued to work their case, but without Verity's contribution, well, I certainly didn't foresee who the murderer was...so, it's a very good thing that Verity could talk to ghosts, don't you think?! 

It's a little hard to prefer one book over another when you love the who series and are reading them all at once... But I did like the ghostly interaction in this book as one of the best, especially when Verity goes back and helps a certain private write a letter...

What? You want more, well another short is coming next-- Ghost of a Chance!


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