Starlight Demons (Starlight Hollow Book 3) by Yasmine Galenorn

Author:Yasmine Galenorn [Galenorn, Yasmine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Nightqueen Enterprises LLC
Published: 2024-04-29T18:30:00+00:00

By the time I had dried off my hair and wiped the water off the leather of my pants and vest, Grams had made a fresh pot of coffee. She also had a batch of strawberry scones ready to go in the oven. Promptly fifteen minutes after her call, Daisy arrived.

“Hey, come in,” I opened the door.

Daisy handed me her jacket and her hat, and then stood over the stove for a couple minutes while I hung them up. I led her into the kitchen, where Grams poured her a cup of coffee and we settled at the table. The scones were beginning to smell heavenly, and I brought out the butter and honey, while Grams set three dessert plates on the table, along with three knives.

“Oh, I’m in for a treat,” Daisy said. “I’m not sure what you’ve got baking, but I’m all in.” She settled in her chair, sipping the coffee and closing her eyes. “This hits the spot. I’ve been out on the road most of the morning, and a good share of that, not in the car. We had two DUIs this morning, plus a mess to clean up in the hardware store, of all places.”

“At Art’s?” I turned to Grams. “Art Holly owns a small hardware store. He’s also a handyman—repairs small appliances and always does a good job. He’s always struck me as a low-maintenance friend. Somebody whose easy going and always ready to lend a hand.”

“He is,” Daisy said. “But unfortunately, this was the morning that Randall Johson chose to drive a riding lawn mower through the front window of Art’s store.”

I groaned. “Oh good gods. That’s not good.”

“Randall belongs to that rare order of citizens who manage to inflict all sorts of stupidity on the town’s populace,” Daisy explained to Grams. “Two years ago Randall set off the fireworks by accident, while they were still being stored in the shed near the bay. Starlight Hollow’s Fourth-of-July celebration came a few days early. Then there was the time when Randall got the bright idea to go bull-riding, and ended up somehow holding onto the back of one of Joe O’Bradley’s bulls. The bull wasn’t pleased, and both he and Randal smashed into the side of a sedan driven by Widow Anja.”

“Good heavens,” Grams said. “What a mess.”

“That’s putting it mildly. Nobody was hurt except the car, thank gods, but it could have easily turned into a tragedy. Oh, lest we forget, it was Randall who was brought the live grenade to the Historian’s Club. It was a Vietnam War memento that was still live. Thank gods one of our veterans recognized that and got it away from him. Randall thought it was a replica.”

Grams stared at Daisy. “He sounds like he should be wearing a hazard sign on his back.”

“If I had my way, that’s exactly what I’d do. Tattoo a ‘beware of Randall sign on his forehead.’ He’s not a bad guy, he’s entertaining as hell, but you don’t dare let him

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