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Inn the Spirit of Murder: A Spirit Lake Mystery Book 1 by Rhonda Blackhurst is a Fall Into These Great Reads pick #paranormalcozy #cozymystery #fallreads #giveaway



Title: Inn the Spirit of Murder: A Spirit Lake Mystery Book 1

 

Author: Rhonda Blackhurst

 

Genre: Paranormal Cozy

 

Book Blurb:

 

Six-year-sober life coach and skeptic, Andie Rose Kaczmarek, and her red retriever emotional support animal, Aspen, become the new owners of the surmised haunted Spirit Lake Inn in Minnesota. When Andie Rose finds a body in the inn’s kitchen, she fears it will be the death of what’s most important—the stellar reputation of the inn her grandparents, Grandpop and Honey, built.


Aware of the risk of stress in sobriety, she gets an AA sponsor—feisty, spirited Sister Alice who, 30 years ago, traded in one habit for another. Andie Rose falls prey to a new, potentially more dangerous addiction--solving the murder. But in typical Sister Alice fashion, she transforms the danger of solving a murder into a spirited good time. Will Andie Rose flip from skeptic to believer?

 

Excerpt:

 

I glanced around the pub and then at my watch; Brad was forty-five minutes late, later than usual. I wanted to get this done and over with. The waiting just gave me anxiety. And for an alcoholic, anxiety while alone in a bar could lead to disaster and embarrassment from unintended consequences, no matter how much time was under one’s belt. Which reminded me it was high time I began looking for a new sponsor since moving here. Asking someone to be your sponsor was akin to asking someone out on a date. Terrifying yet rewarding if you get the “yes.” I rolled my eyes and finished my Diet Pepsi, preparing to leave. If Brad got hung up, it could be another hour. I’d rather wait at the inn, and he could meet me there.

 

I pushed my chair back, and Aspen roused to a sitting position. When the door opened, I expected to see Brad. Ivan surprised me instead.

 

“Ugh,” I muttered. I looked down and took a deep breath. To address him or pretend I didn’t see him—quite the dilemma. It was a choice I didn’t have to make after all since he marched toward my table, a snide grin on his face. 

 

“Alone?” he asked. “Or stood up by someone?”

 

“What do you want, Ivan?” I said, meeting his eyes. “Because I’m not in the mood for your—” 

 

“I’m meeting Roman,” he said and looked around the bar, then back at me. “Appears he’s not here yet.” He craned his neck, looked around the corner of the bar, and then nodded with a wave of recognition. “I guess he is.” 

 

Roman had been to the coffee shop at the inn a time or two with his dad. He was a barista at Hallowed Grounds Coffee Shop on the edge of town. A self-proclaimed coffee junkie, I’d been there too many times to count, and Roman had been my barista numerous times. He seemed like a good kid, though quiet. But with a dad as a church deacon, I would expect nothing less. 

 

“He’s twenty-one,” Ivan said, as if reading my mind. “Looks young for his age.” He made to leave.

 

“Do you have time to chat for a minute first?” I stood so I was at his level, a trick I’d learned in my life coach training and leadership courses. At five-foot-eight, I was nearly the same height as him. “I’d like to figure out how we can move forward and get along. We work at the same place—of which I’m the owner.”

 

He nodded and stuffed his fists inside the pockets of his jacket. “You’ve reminded me of that too many times for me to forget.”

 

“So what’s the problem? It can’t be something so little as the dog biscuit issue.” The Spirit Lake Inn had been baking specialty dog biscuits for the past several years and sold them to the public. When I’d taken ownership, Ivan saw it as a chance to do away with them, claiming my grandparents hadn’t hired him to bake for dogs and that he was a professional chef.

 

“This thing you call a little issue is demeaning to my profession.” He took a hand from his pocket and pointed to Aspen. “Dogs don’t belong in food establishments. And I didn’t go to school to learn how to bake for them.” He spat the word and made a face as if he had burped something up.

 

I took a step back, Aspen stood, and I laid my hand against his neck. “Which is why I told you I’m happy to do it, Ivan. I love baking.”

 

“I know that because you use my kitchen. My kitchen. I’ve been the chef there for seventeen years. I’ve asked you not to use it, but you disrespect me and use it anyway. A chef always knows when someone else has been in his kitchen. That is my territory, and you have no 1 business being in my territory.”

 

Apparently, we were dogs now and marking our territory. Aspen sat on my feet as if telling me to stay calm.

 

“Well, I’m sorry we can’t agree to disagree with this. I own the inn, and I will use the kitchen. If you can’t accept that, maybe it’s time to look for work someplace else.” I looked at the table next to us as the man finished opening the wine bottle and discreetly slid his knife toward the opposite side of the table, as if one of us would use it as a weapon.

 

“Are you firing me?” His tone was low yet threatening, and he cracked his knuckles on one hand, then the other. “I don’t think you want to do that. I was there long before you owned the place. And the inn will never survive without me.”

 

“My grandparents made it as successful as it is, Ivan. Not you. You are one of a team of people who makes the inn run as well as it does. One of a team.”

 

He turned his head to the side and then looked at me with eyes that turned my blood cold. “I will sabotage your business if you get rid of me. I’ll go somewhere else in Spirit Lake, and the inn will have no business at all.”

 

“Somehow, I doubt that,” I mumbled. And after this altercation, I knew Ivan staying at the inn wasn’t an option. He had to go. The sous-chef, Tony Valentino, had skills near that of Ivan and was much easier for everyone to get along with. I took a breath. “Ivan, it’s clear you’re not happy with me at the inn. Go someplace that makes you happy, Spirit Lake or not. Life is too short. But please leave me the recipe for the dog biscuits.” At the mention of the word biscuits, Aspen’s ears perked up, and he gave me a hopeful glance.

 

“I will not leave the inn or the dog biscuit recipe. The only way that’ll happen is over my dead body,” he said, jamming his fists in his pockets again.

 

Buy Links (including Goodreads and BookBub):

 

Inn the Spirit of Murder – The Wild Rose Press Inc (Links to the buy sites are in this one link from The Wild Rose Press)

 

What’s your favorite thing about autumn:

 

Everything! Pumpkin, cooler weather, sweaters, falling leaves, the smell of leaves, back to routine and schedules…

 

What inspired you to write this story:

 

I’ve been writing as long as I can remember. Usually, this one being no different, the story pops into my head and demands to be written.

 

Giveaway –

 

One lucky reader will win a $100 Amazon gift card.

 

 

Open internationally.

 

Runs September 1 – 30, 2024

 

Drawing will be held on October 1, 2024. 

 

Author Biography:

 

Rhonda is an avid reader, writer, coffee and dark chocolate connoisseur, and certified life coach. She has 10 independently published novels: The Inheritance, a contemporary fiction novel; seven books in the Melanie Hogan Mysteries; and Finding Abby and Abby’s Redemption in the Whispering Pines Romantic Suspense duology. She was awarded the 2022 Master of Literary Arts Award from the Brighton Chamber.

 

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