by: Pamela McCord
Series: Erin Baily in Franklin Paranormal Mystery
Genre: Paranormal Cozy Mystery
Release Date: December 6, 2023
Publisher: PGM Publishing
Erin Baily never expected her Good Samaritan act would lead to a whirlwind of secrets and otherworldly adventures. When she saved the elderly Alice from muggers years earlier, little did she know that she’d inherit Alice’s estate in picturesque Franklin, Tennessee. But when Erin steps into her new home, she’s in for a shock—both the charming house and a mysterious cat hold secrets that will change her life forever.
A near-death experience leaves Erin with an uncanny ability to converse with the enigmatic cat and opens the door to an unexpected ghostly roommate—Alice herself. Together, they embark on a supernatural mission to unearth the truth behind Alice’s murder.
With her trusty best friend, Susie, now by her side in Franklin, Erin starts digging into a web of suspects, each with their own motives and dark secrets. Sparks fly when she crosses paths with the dashing and determined homicide detective, Ryan, who’s assigned to Alice’s case. Romance begins to simmer even as danger looms.
As Erin and Susie unravel the threads of deception, they inch closer to a shocking revelation that will send shivers down your spine. But when danger rears its head, Erin finds herself in a life-or-death showdown with the cunning killer. Can she outsmart a murderer and save herself, all while helping Alice find the peace she deserves?
“Foul Play in Franklin” is a delightful mix of supernatural suspense, heartwarming friendship, humor and a touch of romance.
Join Erin Baily on a thrilling journey as she navigates the living, the dead, and the mysteries that bind them together. Will Erin unveil the truth, or will she become the next victim? Prepare for a spine-tingling, heart-pounding adventure that will keep you on the edge of your seat until the very end.
Woke up in a strange place. I didn’t know where I was for a moment or two, until my vision cleared and I caught sight of all the medical equipment. I noticed a couple of tubes attached to my arm and tried to do an inventory of body parts to see what else might be happening. When I reached up to check my head, I felt a bandage wrapped around it. A doctor with a clipboard stood at the side of my bed and smiled down at me.
“Welcome back. It’s time for you to wake up.” He turned to walk out of the room. I called after him but sucked in a breath when he didn’t stop to open the door but walked right through it.
Here’s another one:
Elsie had brought Weeds home before she picked me up, so I wasn’t surprised to see gold eyes peering at me from around a doorframe. “Hi, Weedsie,” I said. I thought I heard a growl but ignored her as I made my way to the den and sank onto my sofa. Before I could turn on the TV, I felt her hop up beside me. I looked at her and reached out a hand to pet her, but she backed up just enough to let me know petting was currently off-limits. Such a typical cat thing to do.
She sat stone-still and stared at me, and I stared back. I had no idea what was going on in her little cat brain, but it seemed like she had something on her mind.
“Aw, did you miss me?” I baby-talked to her.
“Good grief, it took you long enough.”
I blinked my eyes several times. I couldn’t have just heard Weeds speak.
When I didn’t say anything, Weeds continued. “We kept waiting for you to notice everything, but you were oblivious. Oblivious!”
I pointed at her. “You…you didn’t just say something.”
“I most certainly did. Get with the program, missy.”
“You’re a cat. You can’t talk.” I was sure I must look white as a sheet, as I’d felt all the blood drain out of my face. What kind of drugs did the hospital have me on?
“Apparently I can.”
I backed up from her and jumped off the sofa, grabbing a fireplace poker and holding it out in front of me. “Stay back!”
“Oh my God. Get a grip. We have things to talk about.”
I waved the poker a little bit. “Cats can’t talk.”
“We’ve been over this. And put that thing down. I’m not going to hurt you.”
I squinted at her and sat back down on the sofa, as far from her as possible, but kept a firm hold on the poker.
“Well, I actually did hurt you, but it had to be done.”
“What does that mean?”
“You didn’t fall down the stairs by yourself.”
“You pushed me?”
“Don’t be silly. Cats can’t push people down stairs. But,” she held up a paw for emphasis, “we can suddenly appear under your feet and cause you to trip.”
“You tripped me on purpose?”
“It had to be done. You weren’t catching on.”
“I could have died.”
“No, you couldn’t have.”
“I had a near death experience. The doctor said I was legally dead for ten minutes.”
“You’re here, aren’t you? I knew you wouldn’t die.”
“Oh, really. And how would you know that?” I was sitting on a sofa having an actual conversation with a cat. Are pigs flying?
“Because I’m psychic.”
“I’ve heard everything now,” I said, throwing up my hands.
“Not really.” She started to lick her hind leg, which was stuck up in the air. “By the way, I much prefer Peekaboo to Weeds.”
“Well, Weeds is your name.”
“Not anymore. I won’t answer if you call me that. And I want a new collar with ‘Peekaboo’ on it.”
Maybe I should still be in the hospital. I couldn’t be talking to a cat. I picked up my phone to call Elsie to ask if she’d take me back, but Weeds hissed at me and pounced, knocking the phone out of my hand.
“We’re not done here,” Weeds said. “She needs you.” The cat turned her head, and I followed her gaze. At first, I didn’t see anything, but then I saw a shimmer, and then the shimmer morphed into…Alice?
Once again, I raised my poker and held it between me and the ghost. Then I dropped it and started to cry. Something was terribly wrong with me. Either my brains were scrambled or I had a brain tumor. Neither option sounded great.
“Welcome back. It’s time for you to wake up.” He turned to walk out of the room. I called after him but sucked in a breath when he didn’t stop to open the door but walked right through it.
Here’s another one:
Elsie had brought Weeds home before she picked me up, so I wasn’t surprised to see gold eyes peering at me from around a doorframe. “Hi, Weedsie,” I said. I thought I heard a growl but ignored her as I made my way to the den and sank onto my sofa. Before I could turn on the TV, I felt her hop up beside me. I looked at her and reached out a hand to pet her, but she backed up just enough to let me know petting was currently off-limits. Such a typical cat thing to do.
She sat stone-still and stared at me, and I stared back. I had no idea what was going on in her little cat brain, but it seemed like she had something on her mind.
“Aw, did you miss me?” I baby-talked to her.
“Good grief, it took you long enough.”
I blinked my eyes several times. I couldn’t have just heard Weeds speak.
When I didn’t say anything, Weeds continued. “We kept waiting for you to notice everything, but you were oblivious. Oblivious!”
I pointed at her. “You…you didn’t just say something.”
“I most certainly did. Get with the program, missy.”
“You’re a cat. You can’t talk.” I was sure I must look white as a sheet, as I’d felt all the blood drain out of my face. What kind of drugs did the hospital have me on?
“Apparently I can.”
I backed up from her and jumped off the sofa, grabbing a fireplace poker and holding it out in front of me. “Stay back!”
“Oh my God. Get a grip. We have things to talk about.”
I waved the poker a little bit. “Cats can’t talk.”
“We’ve been over this. And put that thing down. I’m not going to hurt you.”
I squinted at her and sat back down on the sofa, as far from her as possible, but kept a firm hold on the poker.
“Well, I actually did hurt you, but it had to be done.”
“What does that mean?”
“You didn’t fall down the stairs by yourself.”
“You pushed me?”
“Don’t be silly. Cats can’t push people down stairs. But,” she held up a paw for emphasis, “we can suddenly appear under your feet and cause you to trip.”
“You tripped me on purpose?”
“It had to be done. You weren’t catching on.”
“I could have died.”
“No, you couldn’t have.”
“I had a near death experience. The doctor said I was legally dead for ten minutes.”
“You’re here, aren’t you? I knew you wouldn’t die.”
“Oh, really. And how would you know that?” I was sitting on a sofa having an actual conversation with a cat. Are pigs flying?
“Because I’m psychic.”
“I’ve heard everything now,” I said, throwing up my hands.
“Not really.” She started to lick her hind leg, which was stuck up in the air. “By the way, I much prefer Peekaboo to Weeds.”
“Well, Weeds is your name.”
“Not anymore. I won’t answer if you call me that. And I want a new collar with ‘Peekaboo’ on it.”
Maybe I should still be in the hospital. I couldn’t be talking to a cat. I picked up my phone to call Elsie to ask if she’d take me back, but Weeds hissed at me and pounced, knocking the phone out of my hand.
“We’re not done here,” Weeds said. “She needs you.” The cat turned her head, and I followed her gaze. At first, I didn’t see anything, but then I saw a shimmer, and then the shimmer morphed into…Alice?
Once again, I raised my poker and held it between me and the ghost. Then I dropped it and started to cry. Something was terribly wrong with me. Either my brains were scrambled or I had a brain tumor. Neither option sounded great.
Purchase Foul Play in Franklin from:
(Affiliate Links Used)
Places to find Pamela McCord:
No comments:
Post a Comment
STOP!
Did you just copy and paste your previous comment? Please don't. Duplicate comments will be deleted.
Comments that include links to other sites, or names including links WILL BE CONSIDERED SPAM AND DELETED.