Lock, Stock, and Feral

Lock, Stock, and FeralCountry Cottage Mysteries 15


Addison Moore Bellamy Bloom


Contents
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Book Description
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Recipe
Books by Addison Moore
Acknowledgments
About the Authors


Copyright © 2021 by Addison Moore, Bellamy Bloom
Edited by Paige Maroney Smith
Cover by Lou Harper, Cover Affairs
This novel is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to peoples either living or deceased is purely coincidental. Names, places, and characters are figments of the author’s imagination. The author holds all rights to this work. It is illegal to reproduce this novel without written expressed consent from the author herself.
All Rights Reserved.
This eBook is for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this eBook with another person, please purchase any additional copies for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Copyright © 2021 by Addison Moore, Bellamy Bloom
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Book Description
The Country Cottage Inn is known for its hospitality. Leaving can be murder.
My name is Bizzy Baker Wilder, and I can read minds. Not every mind, not every time but most of the time, and believe me when I say, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.
A book club called the Grim Readers has descended on the inn and things take a turn for the deadly when life begins to imitate art. The weather isn’t the only thing heating up in Cider Cove—tempers are flaring, too. Spring is in the air and so is murder.
Bizzy Baker Wilder runs the Country Cottage Inn, has the ability to pry into the darkest recesses of both the human and animal mind, and has just stumbled upon a body. With the help of her kitten, Fish, a mutt named Sherlock Bones, and an ornery yet dangerously good-looking homicide detective, Bizzy is determined to find the killer.
Cider Cove, Maine is the premier destination for fun and relaxation. But when a body turns up, it’s the premier destination for murder.


Chapter 1
“A book club,” I whisper in my sweet cat’s ear as the makeshift library right here at the Country Cottage Inn begins to fill with bodies for tonight’s literary shenanigans. “Finally something down-to-earth and grounded happening at the inn for once. I can’t see a single thing going wrong tonight.”
Fish, my sweet, black and white long-haired tabby, lets out a rawr. You don’t mean that, Bizzy. She taps me on the chest with her paws as she does her best to stretch out in my arms. You’re on a murderous streak. I heard Jasper mention it this morning. Fourteen bodies in fourteen months. He says he may have overlooked a double homicide or two, but he wasn’t caffeinated enough to do the murderous math.
“Very funny.”
She’s right. My husband, Jasper, did say those exact words, and come to think of it, I’m pretty sure there was a double homicide in there somewhere, too.
My name is Bizzy Baker Wilder, and I can read minds—not every mind, not every time—but it happens, and believe me, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be—with the exception of conversations like these, of course. Yes, I can read the animal mind, too, and by and large, they have better things to say than most humans. I’ve got brown hair, blue eyes, and am average in just about every way with the exception of my aforementioned supernatural ability.
A body slams against my side as I narrowly move Fish out of the danger zone in time.
“Oh! I’m so sorry!” A heavy-set woman with long silver hair and pale blue eyes holds her hands spread wide before me as if she were about to steady me. She has on a denim dress and over her shoulder hangs a tote bag with cats embroidered all over it. “I’ve been in such a hurry to get here. I sped all the way to Cider Cove. I was afraid I’d miss the event altogether. My apologies again.”
“No, it’s okay,” I say, rocking Fish. “We’ve got quite the crowd here tonight. I’m sure there will be a repeat performance soon enough as far as bumping into strangers goes. So where’d you come from?”
“I live in Rose Glen, so not far, but I was frazzled nonetheless.” A soft smile comes to her face, and I can see that she has kind eyes, but overall she looks a little frayed around the edges. “I guess you could say I’m a little more than excited about tonight’s selection.”
“Oh? I take it you loved the book,” I muse. “I just finished it last night, and I can’t tell you how much I enjoyed it. What’s not to love about a book that features both cats and murder?”
She sputters a small laugh. “Well, that’s great that you got a kick out of it. I mean, cozy mysteries aren’t for everybody. But they should be.” She gives a tiny wink before heading straight for the wine station.
Yes, wine.
I scan the room and take in the heavenly scent of fresh brewed coffee. The library is more of a spacious sitting room with mahogany paneled walls and wooden floors stained a distressed shade of gray, both of which bleed into the rest of the inn as well. Shelves laden with books line the back of the room that acts as a lending