Title: Pups, Pumpkins and Murder
Author: S.A. Kazlo
Genre: Cozy Mystery
Book Blurb:
Autumn has arrived in the small town of Wings Falls in upstate New York, and children's book author Samantha Davies couldn't be happier. She's excited to attend the town's annual Taste of Wings Falls craft and food festival with her boyfriend Detective Hank Johnson. The fair features several booths, like the one Sam's rug hooking group, the Loopy Ladies, have set up as a fundraiser to send underprivileged children to summer camps, as well as home-grown vegetables, like the 2,000-pound pumpkin grown by Farmer Scooter that he's proudly displayed on the back of his truck. But maybe the biggest draws for the fair is the barbeque cook-off. Samantha is friends with the owners of the three restaurants participating, but she is betting on Franny Goodway, the owner of Sweetie Pie's Café, taking home this year's coveted first place prize.
But things take a stomach-churning turn when several fair goers become ill after chowing down on Franny's pulled pork delight. Franny insists it's not her fault... but when Sam sees Franny vehemently arguing with the new loan officer at the town's bank, she knows something is wrong.
Little did Sam know how wrong.
That evening as Sam takes her dachshund, Porkchop, for a stroll, she finds the body of the loan officer...crushed under a 2,000 pound pumpkin and deader than the fall leaves covering the ground! Franny instantly becomes the number one suspect, and it's up to Sam to prove her friend innocent of the man's murder. Can she find a killer, and navigate her relationship with her detective boyfriend, and save Sweetie Pie's Café?
Excerpt:
CHAPTER 0NE
Who knew a pumpkin could kill a person? I'm sure Scooter Dickenson never thought his prize winning 2,000-pound gourd would be the means of a person's death when his flatbed truck rumbled into the Wings Falls Park yesterday morning. The victim—Edgar Jensen—the new loan officer at the Wings Falls National Bank. I had never met Edgar before yesterday when I had the misfortune of making his acquaintance at the annual Taste of Wings Falls Fair. I say misfortune because from what I observed at the fair he wasn't the nicest person, arguing with a number of fair goers. But was someone mad enough at Edgar to want him dead? These questions ran through my mind as I sat with my cousin, Candie, in our regular booth in Sweetie Pie's Café after Sunday Mass at Saint Anthony's.
The weekend had started off wonderfully. On Friday night, my boyfriend Hank Johnson, Candie, and her new hubby, Mark Hogan, sat in Adirondack chairs around the metal fire pit in my backyard enjoying s'mores and mugs of hot chocolate. I was mesmerized by the flames licking the oak logs in the circle of fire as they reached for the sky. The sparks reminded me of the lightning bugs that flitted around on a summer night I would try to capture when I was a child.
Earlier in the afternoon I had walked my reddish-brown dachshund, Porkchop, through the maze of tents set up for the Wings Falls annual fall event—A Taste of Wings Falls. Vendors were busy preparing to sell everything from wool scarves to maple syrup. The rug hooking group I belong to, the Loopy Ladies, was prepared to sell hand-hooked items.
A big draw every year for the Taste was Scooter Dickenson's award-winning pumpkin. As I walked close to the flatbed holding this year's beauty, a growl rumbled from deep within Porkchop. I looked down, and the short hairs on his back stood on end. He started to bark and pull on his leash. His behavior surprised me. If a squirrel had run across our path, I could understand his agitation, but a pumpkin? Go figure.
"Your marshmallow is going to burn to a crisp if you don't pay attention."
I laughed and pulled the stick holding my charcoal-black marshmallow out of the flames. My Southern Belle cousin, Candie, was right. It was a bit crispy, but then again, that's how I like my s'mores—a crispy blackened marshmallow sandwiched between a HERSHEY bar and two graham crackers. I assembled my gooey treat, then bit into it. With my eyes closed, a smile of appreciation for the sweet goodness resting on my tongue spread across my face.
"That, good, huh?"
My eyes snapped open at my boyfriend's comment. Hank Johnson and I have been a couple for a little over a year now, but it wasn't until Candie married our town's mayor, Mark Hogan, this past July that he said the "L" word to me at their wedding. When Hank and I met, he was newly transferred to Wings Falls from Albany PD. How we met wasn't the best of circumstances. Porkchop, my main man at the time, and I had stumbled on a dead body. Hank was an investigating officer in the murder of the pet shelter's owner where I was trying to donate a bag of dog food Porkchop had turned his nose up at. A good deed that turned disastrous for me since I became the main suspect in the crime.
I fingered the gold heart-shaped locket hanging around my neck Hank gave me at my cousin's wedding when he proclaimed his love for me. I wore it every day hanging around my neck. Warmth spread through me whenever I thought of that special moment.
Porkchop lay at my feet chewing on his favorite treat—a rawhide bone. Nina, Hank's sweet bull dog, lay next to him doing the same. I snuggled into my down vest. The evening's temperatures had dropped since this morning when the weather was unusually warm for late October.
"How did setting up the Loopy Ladies' booth at the Taste go today?" Hank asked, sipping his hot chocolate from a Harry Potter mug. Mark and Candie had brought a thermos of hot chocolate while I supplied the makings for s'mores.
I licked a glob of sticky marshmallow off my fingers. "I think it's as done as it's going to be. Especially with Gladys and Helen overseeing which rug should go where."
Hank laughed. "I can see my aunt now. She'd puff up if Helen Garber didn't agree with her about how your booth should look."
Gladys O'Malley is Hank's octogenarian aunt, my next-door neighbor and a fellow rug hooker of mine and Candie's. Helen is also a member of the Loopy Ladies. The two strong-minded ladies often butted heads. Neither wanted to give an inch when they spoke their minds. And now that the Loopy Ladies had reserved a booth at the Taste of Wings Falls, held in the town park of my hometown, they each had their own opinion as to how the rugs the members of our group had created should be displayed.
Candie's auburn curls bounced about her shoulders as she shook her head. "I've seen polecats act better when attacking a piece of meat than those two ladies."
I poured more hot chocolate into my "Hookers Do It Better" mug from Candie's thermos. The hot liquid helped warm the parts of me not facing the fire. "I agree with you. If it wasn't for the money, we'd raise from the mug rugs and hooked rugs we planned to sell for the benefit of Camp Adirondack, I'd have said the heck with the whole thing." Camp Adirondack is a summer camp that hosts inner city kids during the summer.
Mark raised an eyebrow. "What are mug rugs? Rugs shaped like a mug of beer?"
Buy Links (including Goodreads and BookBub):
What’s your favorite thing about autumn:
The crisp days and beautiful leaf colors.
What inspired you to write this story:
I read an article about a farmer growing a prize winning pumpkin and thought what a great story idea if the pumpkin happened to be the murder weapon.
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:
Syrl, a retired teacher, lives in upstate New York with her husband and two lively dachshunds. She writes the Samantha Davies Mystery series, featuring Samantha Davies and her loveable dachshund, Porkchop. When not writing she is busy hooking, rug hooking that is, and enjoying her family. Her newest book, number six in the series, Mistletoe, Mutts and Murder will be released in December.
Social Media Links:
twitter- @sakazlo
Instagram- sakazlo
Linkedin- sakazlo