Luck of the Iris: A Village Flower Shop Paranormal Cozy Mystery by Nancy Warren

Author:Nancy Warren [Warren, Nancy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ambleside Publishing
Published: 2023-04-04T16:00:00+00:00

Before I knew it, I was back at Bewitching Blooms, busy with Monday orders.

And I’d discovered I’d be holding a press conference to let the local newspaper know which gardens had made the finals.

So this Monday was even busier than usual. On top of my weekly orders and account management, I wanted to get the shop floor gleaming and looking beautiful. Arthur had sent a press release to the BBC and a few larger papers, hoping they’d send someone, but even if it was only our local paper who attended, I was determined to show off Bewitching Blooms at its best.

Normally, I got up super early and went to the wholesaler to buy stock on Monday mornings, but Imogen agreed to go in my stead. I say agreed, but in fact she was eager. I was slightly nervous. In all the time we’d worked together, I had always been the one to visit the wholesaler, browse through the nurseries, and pick the most delectable stems for my discerning customers. It was one of the top pleasures of running the shop. But this morning, it was Imogen’s job.

Once I’d wrapped my head around relinquishing control, I was glad that Imogen was progressing in the business. I was lucky to have her, and if I wanted to keep her, I was going to have to let her blossom. (Again with the puns.)

Norman was with Char today, and I’d warned him not to come into Bewitching Blooms. I didn’t think a smart-mouthed parrot was a great addition to a press conference. However, Yasmin was back beside my till. She liked being outside in my garden, but she was lonely there. Besides, when she perched beside the till, I got more orders for the locally-handcrafted gnomes, so it was a win-win. She had me for company, and I got more orders.

I was worried about bringing her into my shop in case her mouth accidentally ran away with her, but she assured me she would be seen and not heard.

Imogen arrived early with the flower order, and I was immediately reassured. She’d done a great job and beamed when I told her so. We set about filling buckets, putting some slightly-past-their-prime blooms in the free bucket outside, and then she got to work on the flower orders that had come in on Sunday.

When my first customer rolled in at 10 a.m., I felt like I’d already done a day’s work. I vaguely recognized the woman as one I’d seen before. I thought she lived locally but didn’t come in too often. I put on my brightest smile and helped her choose pink roses, mixed with long stems of iris, and a few fern fronds. The commercially-grown roses didn’t have the glorious scent of Vera’s roses, and I wished I could stock those.

The woman bent to admire Yasmin. Then she read the brochure sitting beside the gnome. “My, she’s a pricey little thing, isn’t she?”

“The gnomes are handmade locally. Each has a unique personality.” More than this woman could possibly imagine.

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