Winter Solstice Murders: Magpie Cove Cozy Mysteries Book 1 by C Farren

Author:C Farren [Farren, C]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gracie Books
Published: 2021-12-08T16:00:00+00:00

BEFORE I HEADED OUT to Lemon’s house, I called the hospital for news on Yetta. She was still in her coma, and the doctors were still slowly deconstructing the magical ice she was encased in. She was neither better nor worse, which I suppose was a good thing. At least it meant I had more time.

Everyone in Magpie Cove lived near each other, so it was only a ten-minute walk to Lemon’s house. I passed a few neighbors on the way, who expressed concern that the festival was being mismanaged. I tried to assure them that Lemon and I had it well in hand, but they weren’t convinced. I was a little annoyed, actually. I didn’t see anyone else but the two of us volunteering to organize the thing.

When I knocked on Lemon’s front door, I knew something was wrong immediately. My breath misted in front of me, and the door itself was freezing like it was made of ice.

“They’re in danger,” I said.

My two familiars stepped back as I conjured a fireball. I blasted it into the door, shattering it into shards of ice. When the way cleared, I stopped and stared inside the house. Everything was frozen. Icicles a foot long grew from the floor and ceiling. The staircase was a long chute of ice. A lamp had fallen over and cracked in half. The house wasn’t just frozen. Everything had been literally turned into ice itself.

“Lemon?” I called. “Nathan?”

I stepped carefully inside, slipping on the floor. I managed to keep myself upright by sheer force of will alone.

“I can’t smell anything,” Widdershins declared, refusing to come inside. He hated the cold on his paws. “Nothing at all.”

Something crashed into the floor next to me and broke in half. It was a frozen bird about the size of a robin - Lemon’s familiar, Albie. He was dead.

“I have a bad feeling,” I muttered.

I passed through the lounge into the dining room, ducking under the doorframe, which was covered with hundreds of tiny icicles. The main dining table was scattered with papers and drawings of the bandstand. Lemon had amassed a wealth of information for the festival. She was going to do the town proud.

“No,” I whispered.

Lemon and Nathan were sitting at the table, frozen solid.

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