Baby Bundt Cake Confusion (Murder in the Mix Book 31)
Baby Bundt Cake ConfusionMURDER IN THE MIX 31Addison Moore
Contents
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Book Description
1. Lottie
2. Lottie
3. Lottie
4. Noah
5. Everett
6. Lottie
7. Lottie
8. Lottie
9. Lottie
10. Noah
11. Everett
12. Lottie
13. Lottie
14. Lottie
15. Lottie
16. Noah
17. Everett
18. Lottie
19. Lottie
20. Lottie
21. Lottie
22. Noah
23. Lottie
24. Everett
Recipe
Books by Addison Moore
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Copyright © 2021 by Addison Moore
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
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Book Description
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, aka dead pets, who have come back from the other side to warn me of their previous owner’s impending doom.
Noah and Everett take Lottie to their high school reunion. The catty women show up in droves and so does a killer. It’s almost Lottie’s birthday and her due date. It's raining suspects and contractions. There’s a baby in the mix—and a killer, too.
Lottie Lemon has a brand new bakery to tend to, a budding romance with perhaps one too many suitors, and she has the supernatural ability to see the dead—which are always harbingers for ominous things to come. Throw in the occasional ghost of the human variety, a string of murders, and her insatiable thirst for justice, and you’ll have more chaos than you know what to do with.
Living in the small town of Honey Hollow can be murder.
Lottie
My name is Lottie Lemon, and I see dead people. Okay, so rarely do I 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. But right now, I’m not seeing a single dearly departed entity. Instead, I’m looking up at the glitziest establishment known to man, the Lux Plaza Hotel, right in the heart of downtown Fallbrook.
It’s behemoth and as glittery as can be, and right out front there’s a large sign nestled in a gilded frame that reads Welcome to the Fallbrook Premier Academy Class Reunion! It’s a freezing night in early March and I’ve ventured out of my cozy little town of Honey Hollow to attend this throwback in time with the men I love.
Everett groans just looking at the sign. “Here we go.” And there’s not a note of enthusiasm in his voice as he says it.
“Yup.” Noah expels a heavy breath. “It’s going to be a long night.”
“Oh, come on, you two,” I say, linking arms with both of them and giving them a jostle. “It’s going to be great. We’ve already come this far. I’m sure it’ll be over before we know it, and not half as bad as you think it’s going to be. Sort of like a root canal.”
“That about sums it up, Lemon.”
Everett has almost always called me by my surname for as long as I’ve known him and I don’t mind one bit. It’s sort of become a sweet pet name at this point in our relationship. And Everett and I do have a relationship—we’re married. Okay, so it began as more or less a business transaction while I was dating Noah. Everett needed an official plus one so he could procure the rest of his trust fund and I helped him meet that matrimonial stipulation.
And since Noah and I were on and off again more times than either of us could count, I decided a while back that I should give it another shot with Everett to see if there was still anything there. Noah came up with the same conclusion at about the same time, and well, Everett and I have been together going on nine months ever since.
Speaking of nine months…
The muscles around my bloated belly feel as if they’re tightening into concrete and I give a long blink before the discomfort loosens. It just so happens that I’m in my final month of what feels like a fifty yearlong pregnancy.
My due date is next week and my own birthday is two weeks after that. But it looks as if I’ll be getting the best birthday gift of a lifetime a little bit early this year—an entire new life to care for—and I can hardly wait, emphasis on the hardly wait. My body has morphed into a Macy’s Day float, and I’m ready to give this baby an eviction notice because of it.
“Are you okay, Lot?” Noah examines me a moment with a serious look in his eyes. Noah has been extra attentive to me during the last nine months. They both have. As they should be—they’re both in the running to be the father. You see, I was saying a rather spirited goodbye to Noah the day we decided to take a break to see where my relationship with Everett might lead, and then I said a