Welcome to Moonridge, where the ghosts have come out to play and Death
just checked into the local B&B.
Running a B&B in a town cursed by magical drama wasn’t Mina
Cartwright’s dream job, but it’s home. After all of the werewolf
debacle over the summer, business has flatlined, and she’s barely
holding on financially. Her last hope? A surprise booking from the cast of The
Real Vampire Wives of Obsidian Hills, who are bringing their reality-show
chaos (and impeccable fashion) to Moonridge just in time for the Halloween
festival.
But the real trouble begins when Dex Grimm, a mysterious, breathtakingly aloof
man with a cane and a suspiciously deathly aura, checks into Room Ten. He says
he’s a writer. Mina suspects he’s hiding something … like
the fact that he might actually be the Grim Reaper.
As ghostly activity spikes, magical boundaries fray, and her guests (living
and otherwise) cause mounting mayhem, Mina finds herself caught between a
brewing supernatural crisis and a man known primarily as Death who somehow
makes her feel more alive than she has in years.
Add in a reality TV crew, rampaging ghosts, and the underlying danger of an
ancient evil reawakening in Moonridge, and Mina’s fall season is about
to be to die for.
About the Author
Avery Arujo is the pen name of a socially anxious, awkward, and proudly
introverted author of the paranormal mystery/romance series Welcome to
Moonridge. Avery lives in the northern U.S., where the scenery is beautiful,
the weather perfect, and the food divine. When not writing, you’ll find
Avery watching a horror movie or trashy reality TV or reading under a blanket
with a cup of coffee, and the world’s sweetest dog trying to prove that
they are more interesting than any old book.
For more information about the Welcome to Moonridge series, or to sign up for
the newsletter, visit welcometomoonridge.com.
Murder, Mystery and Misdirection Pamela McCord (An Erin Baily in Franklin Paranormal Mystery, #3) Publication date: August 21st 2025 Genres: Adult, Cozy Mystery, Paranormal
Hold onto your coffee and get ready to dive into the charmingly quirky world of Franklin, Tennessee. Erin Bailey never expected her new Southern estate to come with a talking cat named Peekaboo and a parade of ghostly visitors, giving her life a supernatural twist beyond even her wildest imaginings.
In “Murder, Mystery and Misdirection,” Erin becomes embroiled in yet another haunting mystery when her neighbor, Derek, vanishes under suspicious circumstances. As she delves into the secrets surrounding Derek’s disappearance, Erin must navigate the demands of an irate spirit who wishes she’d mind her own business, and the wife he left behind who would prefer that Erin not meddle in her personal life. Despite her initial distaste for Derek, an admittedly abusive husband, Erin is determined to help his pesky ghost cross over—all with her signature wit and relatable charm.
With the assistance of her best friend Susie, a podcast-loving sidekick, Detective Ryan Cahill, the handsome detective who has captured Erin’s heart, and DC, a private investigator and Susie’s boyfriend, Erin faces breathtaking revelations and dangerous discoveries. Add in an unexpected visit from Susie’s all-knowing Italian mother, bringing her own mix of culinary talents and psychic insight, and Erin’s world becomes as dizzyingly delightful as it is unpredictable.
Immerse yourself in a tale where cozy meets paranormal, filled with laughter and suspense. When your closest advisor is a snarky orange cat and your sleuthing targets the world of the dead, nothing is off-limits.
Perfect for fans of mystery interwoven with humor, “Murder, Mystery and Misdirection” promises a journey that’s both heartwarming and hilariously unpredictable—because unraveling a murder mystery is just another day in the life when your companions are as spectral and sassy as the enigmatic Peekaboo.
Join Erin as she dances through danger, one ghostly encounter at a time!
I burst through the front door, Ryan in my wake. I stopped in the hallway and looked for any sign of the orange cat who was currently on my sugar (I don’t like to swear) list. It only took a moment before the little creature stepped primly into the hall.
“I was napping,” the grumpy feline said, shooting me a gold-eyed glare. She waited for me to continue.
“I acknowledged them,” I said, deadpan. Just what my cat warned me not to do.
“Oh.” Peekaboo’s snooty manner fell away, and she lowered those gold eyes.
“That’s all you have to say?” I stood, arms crossed, my eyes shooting daggers. Ryan, my boyfriend, stood mutely watching. He couldn’t hear Peekaboo.
But I could. Oh, boy, could I. My sweet little inherited orange cat bestowed on me, by way of tripping me on my way down the front porch steps, the “gift” of being able to communicate with her. Oh, and see ghosts. To be fair, her motives were pure. She needed me to have a near-death experience so I’d wake up and be able to listen to her.
Maybe I should back up, so you know what I’m talking about.
I used to live in Los Angeles. When I was twenty-one, I broke up a mugging and saved a dear little old lady. She was so grateful that seven years later she left me her estate in her will.
In addition to a house, an SUV and a large amount of money, I inherited Peekaboo, the talking cat. Of course, I didn’t know she was a talking cat at the time. After glaring at me for a few days, she apparently thought I was hopeless and pushed me down the stairs. So, I woke up in the hospital and saw a doctor with a clipboard walk through a wall. But that’s really immaterial to my story. My neighbor, who found me splayed out on the porch steps, called 911. When I was released from the hospital, Elsie, the neighbor, told me I’d flatlined and it took ten minutes of the paddles to bring me back to life.
As I hobbled into my house after Elsie brought me home from the hospital and made sure I was all right to be left alone, subject cat started talking to me. I thought I must have a brain tumor…somebody get me back to the hospital! I grabbed the fireplace poker and used it to keep her at bay. I think she may have rolled her eyes at me.
Then, before I was comfortable that she was talking…and I could understand her…she trotted out the ghost of Alice, the sweet little old lady who’d left me her house. Apparently, this whole episode was so I could see Alice and solve her murder.
Author Bio:
A Mom’s Choice Awards® Recipient, Pam started writing later in life when an author friend challenged her to create a book from his story idea. Being a never-say-never person, she met the challenge and managed to finish an entire novel, much to her surprise. Since that beginning, she’s written several books, in several genres. Romance, middle grade and paranormal comprise most of her work. Her first published book, The Haunting of Elmwood Manor, A Pekin Dewlap Mystery, is a Mom’s Choice Award Winner! Several of her books have also earned that award. Pam lives in Tennessee, where she shares a home with her My Cat From Hell TV star, Allie, who manages to exude just enough affection to make her scary feral ways tolerable.
David Cortez, a decorated US Marine, is now on the run from his own government after escaping a top-secret CIA lab when an experimental medical procedure turned sour.
While lying low in Mexico, an assassin sent from British Intelligence tracks him down. However, Sonny from MI6, a British-Iranian with a cockney accent, offers David a choice: join his team, or be killed.
David chooses to work with Sonny, not only because he wants his life back, but because he feels a kinship with the man.
They’re also both in the unique position of being the only living test subjects with alien DNA in their blood. Could that explain the strong attraction between them?
He couldn’t see who the tail was; every time David paused to do a little window shopping on the street and check his six in the window’s reflection, the tail managed to hide. Whoever they were, they were good at slipping by undetected.
David wasn’t sure who it was. Agency, probably, or another US-based shadowy government division. He should’ve picked Venezuela to lie low, but Mexico was his home, his heritage. He had lingered here longer than he should; he knew that, but he’d been so careful, using different names and cash only. He’d grown a beard to blend in and kept moving from place to place, never settling. David had been looking over his shoulder for six months. Now it seemed the bastards had finally caught up to him.
The sun was low in the sky, turning the clouds pink and orange. Vendors in the busy street were out in full force, providing good cover. David calmly made his way down the street, not letting on that he knew he was being followed—but if his tail was worth their salt, they’d know that he knew.
If his tail was a US Government agency like David suspected they were, they wanted one of two things: One, they wanted to keep tabs on him. Two, they wanted to bring him in. The latter would involve kidnap in some form or other; then they’d transport him to a black site—a soundproofed lab where nobody would hear him scream.
David should know. He’d been through that scenario once, and once was enough. If they thought he would come in quietly after what they’d done to him, they had another thing coming.
In the early evening hubbub of Tijuana, David led his tail down side streets and off the beaten path. He knew this town like the back of his hand, and it gave him the advantage.
On an ill-lit street, popular with gang members from the local cartel, a neon bar sign flickered on and off over an open doorway. David ducked in there. Immediately inside the door was a set of steps descending into darkness. David hurried down. At the bottom of the stairs, another open doorway awaited him. David knew the bar; it was small, gloomy, lit only by neon, and it was popular with drug dealers. Today it was busy enough, with music playing loud, and David was able to slip in without attracting attention.
He planned to lie in wait and watch who came through the door after him, so he situated himself at the far end of the bar, facing the entrance. He ordered a light beer. The bartender opened a bottle and stuck a wedge of lime in the top before handing it over.
David took the beer but didn’t drink yet. His eyes were trained on the doorway. Nobody had followed him in, which meant they were hanging back.
If the shoe had been on the other foot and David was the one doing the tailing, he wouldn’t have run straight into the unknown either. That meant this tail wasn’t a local, much as he’d suspected.
David leaned on the bar more casually and poked the lime wedge down into the bottle so he could take a sip of beer. He happened to catch his own reflection in the mirror behind the bar. Illuminated by red neon light, David’s tan skin looked darker than it usually did. He’d grown his hair out to ear length, the colour a mid-brown shade kissed by the sun. His full beard was a darker shade of brown. He looked like a local.
It was ironic; he’d spent his youth in California trying to look less Mexican, trying to fit in with the White kids in his grade. He’d lightened his hair with frosted tips for a while there—hair in the early ’00s…not great. David was half Mexican on his father’s side. His mother was Caucasian American from San Diego.
Now David had fled the US, he wanted to look more Mexican. He had felt shielded by his disguise so far, but maybe it was time for a new disguise. A new location.
Still no one had come through the door. That was nearly five minutes, a lifetime in surveillance work.
David was about to cut and run, when a figure appeared at the entrance. For a moment David tensed, but he soon saw that this figure was tiny. A short Mexican woman, and likely not his tail. She was the first of a group of local youths entering the bar. Two women, three men.
David relaxed some. These were Mexican kids. He could tell by looking at them; their dark hair, their complexions, and their clothes. The shoes gave it away: slides and sandals weren’t exactly standard surveillance footwear. These were civilians.
As the lively group came further into the bar to order their drinks, David noticed that one pair of feet among them had on black boots.
Bingo.
That was his tail, the man at the back of the group. Likely he had waited for a group to enter the bar and tacked himself on. Clever.
When a childish prank is linked to murder, Lady Anne Addison must investigate the death
of a young woman at the hands of a ghoulish fiend . . .
Lady Anne and the Haunted
Schoolgirl
Lady
Anne Addison Mysteries #5
by
Victoria Hamilton
Genre:
Historical Paranormal Mystery
When a childish prank is linked
to murder, Lady Anne Addison must investigate the death of a young
woman at the hands of a ghoulish fiend . . .
As her
wedding to Lord Darkefell approaches, Lady Anne is summoned by a
local girls’ school to help them with a young student troubled by
ghostly apparitions. She’s quick to respond, and quick to discover
the trickery behind the so-called ghosts. But despite her efforts to
demonstrate to the student that she’s been the victim of a cruel
hoax, the young woman apparently jumps to her death the very next
night. Stunned and saddened by the turn of events, Lady Anne soon
realizes that what she thought was a prank was a dark precursor to
foul play.
Certain that someone closely connected to the
school murdered the young woman, Lady Anne promptly begins
questioning students and staff alike to root out the culprit.
Confronting calculating young classmates, pompous instructors, and
even the shockingly callous relatives of the victim, she still feels
no closer to exposing the killer. Then a pattern emerges suggesting
exactly who was behind the foul deed, and Anne will put her life on
the line to find justice for a young woman who lost her own life too
soon . . .
Praise for the Lady Anne Addison
Mysteries:
“If you are looking for a historical
mystery with romance, suspense, and a suggestion of paranormal, then
read Lady Anne and the Howl in the Dark.” —Fallen Angel
Reviews
“[Hamilton] excels at imbuing her realistic
characters with subtle depths . . .” —American Library
Association
“[The author] has set up a well-drawn Gothic
horror setting here, so the atmosphere is fantastic, what with it
being chilling, mysterious, and menacing all at once.” —Mrs.
Giggles
Victoria Hamilton is the national
bestselling author of four mystery series: the Vintage Kitchen
Mysteries; the Merry Muffin Mysteries; the Lady Anne Addison
Historical Mysteries and the Gentlewoman’s Guide Regency Mysteries.
Victoria
loves to read, especially mystery novels, and enjoys good tea and
cheap wine, the company of friends, and has a newfound appreciation
for opera. She enjoys crocheting and beading, but a good book can
tempt her away from almost anything… except writing!
She
now happily writes about vintage kitchen collecting, muffin baking
and dead bodies – among other mysterious topics – for publisher
Beyond the Page.
Visit
Victoria’s website and sign up for her newsletter!
It wasn’t life that flashed before my eyes as Betty Fae thwacked me between the shoulder blades. It was death and disaster—replays of all the faces of shock and sadness worn by acquaintances of my past. Death of one sort or the other followed that stupid Raven.
I remembered them all. Vividly. The writer, the homeschool mom, the surfer, the politician. They were among the near-strangers I’d encountered and endangered.
Following their faces came the really painful pictures. The friendly child advocate, the sweet boy next door, and losing my aunt and uncle. After them, but always above them, followed the loss of my sister and father.
All because of the same intolerable bird. Gracious enough to give me a glimpse of their perils before nudging them to the brink. Impending doom sat, staring at me, from the cup of the only friend I had in town- Janice Rockland. It lingered there amid the froth bubbles, telling me Janice Rockland had twenty-four hours, at most, left to live.
My eyes watered. My throat closed all the tighter. Even after it dislodged my Belgian waffle. Air battled past my suffocating emotions. I gulped it down,
despising myself and fearing for my boss.
Janice and Betty Fae offered me a glass of water and napkins, thinking they’d saved the day. Little did they know. Trouble had just landed in their small town.
Janice watched me through the rest of the meal. If I told her she was about to die, would she be able to eat? I sipped my coffee and avoided conversation.
Long ago, I’d explained my weird glimpses to one of the Raven’s victims. Instead of believing me, my friend grew increasingly sarcastic about my confession. He mocked me. I didn’t blame him. I’m not sure I would’ve believed me, either. In the end, his sarcasm killed him. Laughing and gesturing like a mad bird to make fun of my premonitions, he’d lost control of his bicycle and collided with a garbage truck just as it was lowering its load.
No, I wasn’t about to tell Janice about her Raven. I’d keep watch. Stay sharp. Once the bird made an appearance, he wouldn’t leave until his prey was dead. Accidentally or with malice aforethought.
The next song, movie quote, television commercial, or anything ominous could clue me in on how to save her. At least I could give it a shot. If I didn’t keep a constant eye on Janice, her death would be on my head.
About the Author:
Sarah lives in California, in a home that brings her happiness and hay fever. She loves God, loves her family, and loves freshly brewed coffee. She has a husband who cooks, a son who stop animates, a daughter who loves animals, a dog that follows her everywhere, and a turtle who scowls at her condescendingly.
Her mother raised her on Mary Higgins Clark, Diane Mott Davidson, and Remington Steele. Her grandmother shared True Crime stories with her as they plotted how to get away with the perfect murder. It’s no surprise that Sarah became an award-winning spinner of suspenseful tales brimming with quirky characters. Mysteries are in her blood. Not that she could survive one of her own stories. She confesses, “I’d be snuffed out by chapter two.”
Stanley is going through the motions of life, endlessly seeking employment
in the pages of the daily newspaper and frequently coming up short. When he
receives a call from his friend, Mrs Anderson, a widow whose only son is
giving her cause for concern he thinks the young man is just looking for
some space away from his interfering mother.
Stanley’s initial scepticism soon gives way to fears that Mrs
Anderson was right about Jason when he witnesses him being kidnapped. Trying
to save him, Stanley is also taken by the group and finds himself and Jason
far out to sea on a boat. And it’s clear the kidnappers want rid of
them both.
Certain of his impending death, Stanley is rescued at the last moment by a
woman named Lythea. Her ability to breathe underwater is astounding enough
but when Stanley finds he too has the same talent it signals the beginning
of an epic adventure beneath the waves, as he desperately tries to track
down Jason’s kidnappers and save him from a watery end.
Can Stanley get to Jason before he is killed? And what are the secrets
behind his amazing new power? Stanley is about to discover more about
himself and his family than he ever imagined.
About the Author
Mariam Is a Mechanical Engineer from Saudi Arabia. Despite majoring in an
engineering field, she never forgot her true passion which is writing and
literature. Her father encouraged her love for reading from a very young
age. That at the age of 12 she had already finished reading many books by
some of the most widely acclaimed novelists, Such as Victor Hugo, Charles
Dickens, and Fyodor Dostoevsky.
Mariam took an interest in writing, though she never had the determination
to become a published author until recently when she completed writing her
last novel The Deep. It was a story that she enjoyed writing so much
that she really wanted to share it with the world.
Mariam was busy with her studies during the time she started first mapping
out this book’s initial plot. Nevertheless, at any given time she
would turn to writing, which helped her escape the stresses and routine of
daily life by immersing herself in the details of her story. Which revolves
around a mysterious empire deep under the ocean, a place with no shortage of
wondrous adventures, and where breathing underwater and mingling with
unusual ocean creatures was possible.
It took Mariam many years though to study marine life, and learn more about
the ocean in order to be able to build the events in her story. She
carefully crafted every detail to weave an anecdote that merges the beauty
of the ocean with the art of story-telling. Moreover, her aim was to capture
the essence of this hidden realm beneath the waves. And introduce the reader
to a glimpse of its magic.
Mariam conceived the idea of the Deep in 2014 when she heard about a friend
who got into a terrible diving accident. Fortunately, all turned well for
her friend. But this incident captivated Mariam’s attention and she
ended up writing the accident’s details on a note. These notes were
later developed into a plot. But Mariam had writer’s block and she was
about to give up working on the book. During this time, she moved to
Australia. She would often wander, and hike parts of this beautiful
country’s wilderness. One of the places she would come to love the
most is called the great ocean road. A coast area that overlooks beautiful
ocean sceneries, these trips helped revive Mariam’s dream to continue
writing the story, and finally, bring The Deep to life.
Moreover, Mariam would go snorkelling regularly in order to envision and
experience fully the world that her characters are experiencing. Whether it
was the murky waters, the beautiful corals, strong water currents, or even
not so friendly fishes.
Although finishing the manuscript was a very daunting task, especially
since Mariam had to translate her own book from Arabic to English herself.
It was an experience that she fully enjoyed, Learned a lot from, and helped
her dive into a world that is immensely mesmerizing and not fully
explored.
