Page 77 of Criminal Coconut Cake

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“To pearls and padded bras,” Carlotta teases.

Mom gives a little laugh. “This year is particularly special. The Daughters are making a comeback. Big events. Big traditions. Big expectations.” She squeezes my arm. “And trust me, this town is about to remember exactly what Honey Hollow women are capable of.”

A shiver runs through me, equal parts excitement and equal parts dread.

“Great,” Carlotta chirps. “Because nothing pairs better with a town-wide estrogen uprising than a fresh murder waiting to happen. Ain’t that right, Lot?” She slaps me hard on my back and knocks the wind right out of me.

Let’s just hope what they’re capable of doesn’t include adding another murder to my to-do list.

The fifties are coming back to Honey Hollow, and something tells me the past isn’t interested in staying buried, no matter how good it looks in vintage clothing.

Thank you so much for reading! Head back to Honey Hollow with The Proof is in the Banana Pudding (Murder in the Mix 56)

Is that link not working for you? Try this one: The Proof is in the Banana Pudding (Murder in the Mix 56)

It’s Mother’s Day in Honey Hollow!

Honey Hollow is stepping back to the 1950s—poodle skirts, vintage vibes, and a side of murder! Because nothing says retro like a killer in kitten heels.

My name is Lottie Lemon, and I see dead people. Okay, so I rarely see dead people, mostly I see furry creatures of the dearly departed variety, who have come back from the other side to warn me of their previous owner’s impending doom.

This time, a ghostly peacock has me strutting straight into danger—and looking fabulous while doing it. When the Daughters of Honey Hollow declare a week-long 1950s reenactment culminating in a Mother’s Day garden party, I’m ready to showcase my signature banana pudding and maybe win the GoldenWhisk. With twin babies strapped to my chest and a somewhat bossy two-year-old in tow, what could go wrong at a vintage-themed celebration?

Of course,when the chairwoman of the Daughters ends up dead with a commemorative cast iron skillet knocked over her perfectly coiffed head, I realize someone just turned Honey Hollow’s Mother’s Day celebration into a murder investigation. Between embezzlement scandals, secret affairs, and enough blackmail to fill a vintage hat box—half the organization had motive to kill the queen bee.

But when theinvestigation reveals this murder has more layers than my banana pudding, I know I’m dealing with a killer who’s been perfecting their domestic goddess image for decades. With my spatula in one hand and my sleuthing skills in the other—plus a supernatural sidekick who has some serious tail feathers, and enough suspects in poodle skirts to populate a sock hop—I’ll need to crack this case before the killer decides I know too much.

Living in Honey Hollow can be deadly.