Ghosts, Ghouls, and Growls (Country Cottage Mysteries Book 30) by Addison Moore & Bellamy Bloom

Author:Addison Moore & Bellamy Bloom [Moore, Addison & Bloom, Bellamy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hollis Thatcher Press, LTD.
Published: 2025-10-02T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 15

The Fright Night Spooktacular transforms beautifully at dusk like a debutante getting ready for her coming-out ball—if she shopped exclusively at Spirit Halloween stores and had a serious addiction to artificial fog.

The family-friendly carnival atmosphere gives way to something more mystical and decidedly more adult, which I suspect has everything to do with the fact that the parents have finally managed to wear out their sugar-high children.

Strings of orange and purple lights flicker to life against the darkening sky like Christmas lights that went goth, while jack-o’-lanterns glow from every available surface with their carved faces casting eerie shadows across the festival grounds.

The scents have evolved, too—sugary funnel cakes and cotton candy now mingle with savory aromas of chili, cornbread, and mulled cider that’s been spiked with enough cinnamon whiskey to make the grown-ups forget they spent their life savings on carnival games that are definitely rigged.

“I vote for chili in a sourdough bread bowl,” Jasper says, studying the food truck options with the intensity he usually reserves for case files. “But I must admit, the maple bacon grilled cheese is making a compelling argument.”

“You could just get both,” I suggest, repositioning Ella in her stroller. She’s still wearing her pumpkin pie costume, though it’s now accessorized with a little spit-up that I’m pretending is part of the whipped cream effect. “It’s a festival. Calorie math doesn’t apply. That’s like, the first rule of carnival physics.”

“Sounds logical. This is why I married you.” Jasper grins, the flickering lights blinking across his face. He looks downright diabolical for a split second before his dimples give him away.

I’m still processing my earlier conversation with Hazel, trying to sort genuine clues from what I’m pretty sure was calculated misdirection wrapped in a paranormal research paper.

Her revelations about Buffy and Hammie Mae seemed rather convenient, and perhaps perfectly packaged to deflect suspicion from herself. And yet, there was a kernel of authenticity in some of what she said—or at least, in what she didn’t say. I knew the part about Buffy anyway.

Fudge sits patiently at my feet, his eyes occasionally tracking movement in the crowd as if searching for something—or someone. Fish has claimed a spot in Ella’s stroller, curled up like a furry black and white stress ball, while Sherlock trots happily beside Jasper, occasionally stealing fallen festival food with ninja-like precision.

These hoomans have no concept of efficient eating, Fish mewls as a nearby man drops half his loaded nachos. So much food is wasted on fancy presentation when they could just eat it directly from the container like civilized beings.

Food tastes better when it’s been on the ground, Sherlock assures her, eyeing the fallen nachos with the blatant interest of someone who’s never met a floor snack he didn’t like. That’s just science.

“Bizzy! Jasper!” a familiar voice calls out over the festival noise, and I turn to see Emmie waving enthusiastically, pushing Elliot’s stroller through the crowd with Leo following close behind like a devoted bodyguard. Gatsby and Cinnamon trot alongside them, looking remarkably well-behaved compared to our motley crew of furry half-starved misfits.

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