Cat Scratch Cleaver

who looks to be her equal in every way, with his wiry gray hair and punch-colored Hawaiian shirt dotted with toucans and palm trees.
Georgie essentially begged me to let them shoot here after hearing Peter say the staff could play the part of extras.
And that’s exactly why I’m standing behind the counter, pretending to ring up the brunette before me whose mind I just inadvertently pried into. Evidently, she’s Peter’s wife.
Georgie snorts at something the man in the Hawaiian shirt says to her, and Peter lets out an egregious moan. Suffice it to say, Peter Olsen is severely high-strung.
“And cut!” he shouts, gripping his gray hair at the temples. His face is purple with rage and his eyes bulge as he looks to Georgie. “How many times do I have to tell you? Extras do not have vocal cords!”
A tiny laugh bucks through me, and I do my best to swallow it down.
Something soft and furry curls around my ankles, and I glance down to see my adorable black and white tabby, Fish, threading her way between my feet. I’ve had Fish for over a year now. I found her when she was a kitten just up the street outside of my sister’s soap and candle shop, Lather and Light.
Bizzy, I don’t like these intruders. She twitches her furry little head to the side. You’re in charge around here. Tell them to take their angry vocal cords and leave. She gives my leg a playful swipe as if to get her point across.
Yes, I just read her mind, too. It’s true. I can hear the animal mind as well. And ten times out of ten, I prefer that to the human variety.
Both Fish and Jasper’s red freckled pooch, Sherlock Bones, are behind the counter with me. I’m not sure if Peter Olsen is aware of it, but I don’t think it matters. The camera can’t see them anyway. Besides, there are a zillion people in the kitchen. And now that the cameras aren’t rolling, the entire café has exploded with bodies.
Sherlock gives a light bark. All right, Bizzy. You said if I behaved, I’d get bacon. I was good and quiet. Now let’s get to the bacon.
I’m about to reach down and give him a pat when Bates Barlow comes up to the counter. He’s the current heartthrob around these parts. He’s been in a few commercials and low-budget movies, such as this one, but his fame precedes any of his accolades. He’s pretty much a social media sensation and the self-proclaimed crush of just about every girl and woman on the Eastern Seaboard.
He’s got short, dark, wavy hair, glowing hazel eyes that look perpetually glossy, and perhaps chemically induced, and there’s a general boyishness about his features. I’ve always preferred my men a bit more rugged, thus my initial attraction to Jasper, but I can see the draw.
Speaking of my ruggedly handsome fiancé, I sneak another quick glance to Jasper, who’s currently being verbally accosted by his ex-girlfriend, Camila Ryder. Jasper is tall, with dark hair, electric gray eyes, and a body that’s put together as God intended in exactly the right way with all the right parts.
I take a moment to scowl over at Camila, with her long dark hair and that curve-hugging red dress. As soon as she got a whiff of the movie being filmed at the inn, she quickly signed up to be an extra herself.
I do my best to try to read her mind—although I really don’t have to. I’m pretty sure all she thinks about is Jasper, my Jasper.
That’s the thing about reading minds. It’s not as easy as you would think. I can only hear certain things. And there are certain people I can’t get a read on at all. Once in a while, someone’s mind will clutter up with nothing but white noise, and that’s a sure sign they’re having indecent thoughts at the moment. And if the person whose mind is open for me to hear isn’t standing in front of me, it’s hard to tell if it’s coming from a man or a woman. At that point, it sounds monotone and sort of muted, and I’m not sure why. I’m not sure about a lot of things that involve my telepathic abnormality.
I try my best to zero in on Camila once again, and this time I’m met up with a bunch of white noise. Case in point, she’s having naughty thoughts about my betrothed. And coincidentally, I’m having homicidal thoughts about Camila.
I can’t wait to rid the world of that despicable creature. Some people really are better off dead.
I blink back. As much as I’d like to claim that thought as my own, it didn’t come from me.
I give a quick look around as a chill rides through me. I haven’t the faintest idea who just let that homicidal thought fly.
Fish lets out a hair-raising yowl as she hops to the other side of Sherlock.
Bizzy, I have a bad feeling about all this.
A mean shiver rides through me as I take a quick survey of all the anxious bodies swirling in the vicinity.
I quickly pick up Fish and land a kiss to the tip of her ear before whispering, “I have a bad feeling about this, too.”
It’s happening, and not a force in the universe can stop me, the mystery voice strums again.
I give another quick glance around and wonder what it is not a force in the universe will be able to stop.

Chapter 2
Bates Barlow steps in front of me, effectively blocking my view of the malfeasance taking place with Jasper and Camila. Bates is not only the movie star du jour, but he’s part of the reason my man-hungry sister, Macy, forced my hand at accepting the project to begin with. Georgie may have pleaded that we host this movie-induced madness, but Macy demanded in a way only she can.
He nods my way with those glossy hazel eyes. “I’ll just put this here.” The cleaver