This story is about a Platypus named Pete who makes a unique friendship. they share their strong affinity for adventure! Children will be able to take away that sometimes a unlikely friendships can turn into something wonderful. The story also demonstrates how helping others can come back to you. Join in on the first book in the series for more of Pete’s adventures along with a coloring book for each one.
Grab your favorite drink, then sit back and relax with this old man who’s mourning and honoring his deceased friend. Experience the joy of living, loving, and then crying from the pain of it all. And I promise—you will be surprised by what’s in The KITBAG; because she’ll do anything to make sure her family is safe.
The woman ran through the center of town, her heavy boots splashing cold, muddy water up onto her bare legs as she sped right through a puddle. Her lungs burned as she gasped in breaths, her head pounding, feeling ready to burst. Angry shouts rang out from behind her, along with the clang of an alarm bell. A large crow perched on her shoulder, hunched low, claws pricking through her thin shirt as she sprinted down the main street. She took a sharp turn, slipping on wet dirt and nearly losing her balance. The bird had to open his wings and flap to right himself.
The crow spoke. “Well, I hate to say it but—”
“If you say—‘I—I told you so’—” the woman gasped out between breaths, “I swear—swear to all the gods—I’ll sell you—to a fucking circus.” She increased her pace, arms and legs pumping. “Also,” she added, catching most of her breath, “you don’t—you don’t hate saying it. You—fucking—love saying it.”
The crow clacked his beak and launched himself from her shoulder, flapping into the sky.
The woman cursed under her breath, taking another sharp turn. She burst out of an alley into a wide-open square—the town market. It was already bustling with activity, a thick mass of people walking from stall to stall, vendors shouting and cajoling customers.
How the fuck was it so busy at the crack of dawn? She glared up at the sun, as if expecting an answer or apology.
Oh. Apparently it was midday.
She sprinted through the center of the market, the distant shouts compounded by new ones rising around her. She ran flat-out, the stalls and people becoming blurs. At the edge of the square, she clipped the corner of a cart, bouncing off hard, tripping and landing in a puddle. She leapt back up, cold water dripping off her, and resumed running as people stared and pointed.
She turned down another alley and the sudden shift of motion was finally too much for her stomach. She bent over, propping one hand against a wall, and vomited, the contents of her stomach hitting the ground and spattering up onto her legs. She choked, coughing, trying to catch her breath, slumping to sit heavily, her back against the cold stone wall. The angry shouts had reached the marketplace now, closing in on her.
The crow dove out of the sky, flapping to slow himself as he perched on a nearby crate, looking at her, somehow conveying extreme disapproval.
“You have to get up,” the crow said. “They’re close. Get up over the wall at the end of the alley, down the next street and there’s a horse.”
The woman was still trying to catch her breath. Her head was surely about to burst. All in all, it was one of the worst hangovers she’d ever experienced. She pushed herself to her feet, groaning, and the crow flapped over to perch on her shoulder again.
She really, really wished she’d at least been able to find her pants before all this.
A baker. An avid reader. A security guard.
All of these are ways in which Alice Hernandez defines herself. But soon, she will be adding a new title to that list:Amateur Sleuth.
Alice lives in a small town. The kind where nothing exciting ever happens. Still, she takes her job as head of security at the local museum seriously. They often get traveling exhibits with precious artifacts, and it’s her job each night to make sure everything is safe and where it should be.
One night, her meticulous but boring routine is interrupted when her new team of guards is nowhere to be found. Following her instincts, she searches for them and the source of the odd tingle she gets when things aren’t quite right. And she lands herself in the wrong place at the wrong time. Just in time for a gunshot to barely miss her.
Something sinister is plaguing her small town, and she’ll stop at nothing to find out what. And one tiny clue may have been the answer all along.
If you enjoy old-school Agatha Christie and J.B. Fletcher, you’ll love this cozy mystery full of twists and turns you won’t see coming.
Mateo:
“I’m too damaged for Janey. An ex-con, a killer, a spy. She deserves better.”
Janey:
“Mateo is the only one who has ever touched my heart. I refuse to live without him.”