This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Trixie Silvertale will be awarding a $75 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.
Front row seats to murder. Thousands of eyewitnesses. Can our psychic sleuth trust her own eyes?
Mitzy Moon is loving life after the honeymoon. And as part of their agreement to try new things, she’s happily whooping it up at the local cowboy competition. But the newlyweds get roped into yet another investigation when their date night ends with a dead rodeo clown.
As her new husband’s history with the prime suspect’s wife tests all loyalties, Mitzy struggles to balance jealousy with keeping her man out of the hoosegow. And now she’ll need saddlebags of extra help from her mentor, Ghost-ma, and her entitled feline to unhorse the ruthless culprit.
Can Mitzy and Erick wrangle all the clues, or will spurious accusations bring a deadly showdown?
Rodeo Clowns and Shakedowns is the second book in the hilarious new paranormal cozy mystery series, Harper and Moon Investigations, a spinoff from the popular Mitzy Moon Mysteries. If you like snarky heroines, supernatural intrigue, and a dash of romance, then you’ll love Trixie Silvertale’s bucking brainteaser.
Buy Rodeo Clowns and Shakedowns to lasso a killer today!
Read an Excerpt
“Grams, for the millionth time, I’m not going to wear a cocktail dress and Jimmy Choos to watch a parade at the over-heated, sweaty end of June!”
“You’re the one who said ‘no’ to the sundress and the strappy sandals. That outfit would’ve looked fantastic with your snow-white hair twisted into a few soft curls. Once you turned that one down, what did you expect me to do?”
I roll my grey eyes heavenward and sigh. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe I was living under the foolish fantasy that you would choose shorts, a T-shirt, and some comfortable canvas tennis shoes!”
“And waste all this gorgeous clothing?” Her apparition dims with disappointment.
Lying flat on the padded mahogany bench in my museum for fashion, I stare up at the cedar-lined ceiling and toss out my objection. “Look, Grams, I’m not looking to impress anyone. I’ve already landed my once-in-a-lifetime guy.”
Ghost-ma lived her life to the fullest, and that definitely included a laundry list of ex-husbands — with no regrets. She passed on her joie de vivre to me, but I prefer to keep my list to one.
“Don’t be so quick to judge, sweetie. No one knows what the future holds.”
“Grams! I feel like we’ve had this discussion more times than necessary. You know the rules! If these lips aren’t moving, you’re not allowed to comment. Absolutely no thought-dropping.”
Before I can continue my lecture, our resident fur baby slinks out from under the bench, rises on his powerful hind legs, and drops something on my bare leg.
The feel of it against my skin is unpleasant, and I tilt my head up from the bench to get a better look . . .
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