In Brambleberry Bay, pumpkin spice comes with a body count. Fall’s favorite flavor just turned fatal, and this Thanksgiving, secrets are the main ingredient.
It’s autumn in Brambleberry Bay and the leaves are falling and the air is crisp. The whole town is gearing up for our annual Pumpkin Spice Festival with festive treats, cozy sweaters, rides, games, and a touch of small-town charm. It’s the perfect time to relax, and snuggle with my boyfriend and talking pets—until someone drops dead at my feet. I just can’t catch a break.
It’s so cozy it’s...
This Book Club just turned into a Murder Club.
In Brambleberry Bay, pumpkin spice comes with a body count. Fall’s favorite flavor just turned fatal, and this Thanksgiving, secrets are the main ingredient.
It’s autumn in Brambleberry Bay and the leaves are falling and the air is crisp. The whole town is gearing up for our annual Pumpkin Spice Festival with festive treats, cozy sweaters, rides, games, and a touch of small-town charm. It’s the perfect time to relax, and snuggle with my boyfriend and talking pets—until someone drops dead at my feet. I just can’t catch a break.
It’s so cozy it’s criminal! *RECIPE INCLUDED*
There’s nothing like a cozy fall festival, crisp autumn air, and a steaming cup of pumpkin spice latte—unless you’re sipping it while someone drops dead in the middle of the Pumpkin Palooza.
Hi, I’m Hattie Holiday. Mind reader, animal whisperer, and unofficial ringleader of Brambleberry Bay’s most eccentric murder club. When the beloved owner of Spice It Up Café keels over just before being crowned Pumpkin Queen, I smell something foul—and it’s not just the cinnamon overload in her award-winning pie.
Was it the bitter baker she beat out for the crown? The café rival whose recipe she may have stolen? Or the shady head judge with a messy past and a suspiciously close connection to the victim?
Between decoding deadly desserts and trying to figure out if my hot detective boyfriend is secretly rekindling things with his ex, it’s a miracle I haven’t been poisoned by pumpkin myself. But with my wily crew and furry sidekicks by my side, we’ll sift through suspects faster than you can say “maple-glazed murder.”
One thing is for sure—this fall, someone is baking up more than just trouble. And I intend to serve justice with a side of whipped cream.
A mind reader. Talking pets. An arrogant homicide detective. A murder club. And a corpse.
Welcome to the club. Getting in was easy. Getting out can be murder.
