Lovely Lethal Gardens Box set 1-10

Arsenic in the Azaleas:

A USA Today Bestselling Book 

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐“Clean read. Real characters. Touch of humor. Some action. Loved the setting. Can't wait to read the rest of the series. “ – Amazon Reviewer

Riches to rags. … Controlling to chaos. … But murder … seriously?

After her ex-husband leaves her high and dry, former socialite Doreen Montgomery's chance at a new life comes in the form of her grandmother, Nan's, dilapidated old house in picturesque Kelowna … and the added job of caring for the animals Nan couldn’t take into assisted living with her: Thaddeus, the loquacious African gray parrot with a ripe vocabulary, and his buddy, Goliath, a monster-size cat with an equally monstrous attitude.

It’s the new start Doreen and her beloved basset hound, Mugs, desperately need. But, just as things start to look up for Doreen, Goliath the cat and Mugs the dog find a human finger in Nan’s overrun garden.

And not just a finger. Once the police start digging, the rest of the body turns up and turns out to be connected to an old unsolved crime.

With her grandmother as the prime suspect, Doreen soon finds herself stumbling over clues and getting on Corporal Mack Moreau’s last nerve, as she does her best to prove her beloved Nan innocent of murder.

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Arsenic in the Azaleas:

Day 1, Wednesday: The First Day of the Rest of Her Life…

This is what she’d come to? A thirty-five-year-old soon-to-be divorcée, penniless, living in her grandmother’s dilapidated home? Doreen Merriweather—back to Doreen Montgomery now—parked her aging Honda Civic in the driveway of what was her new residence in the Lower Mission area of Kelowna, British Columbia. And stared.

Goodness. This was not how she remembered the house. It was just another lump to take in a long line of lumps she’d already taken.

She blew the errant curls of blond hair off her face. The warm spring sunshine highlighted the two-story house’s ancient clapboard siding, windows in desperate need of cleaning. Shutters in need of paint or repair, and a roof more covered in moss than shingles. It had a lost-in-time and forgotten-by-the world air to it.

She could relate.

For just a moment she allowed herself to wallow in self-pity. Her previous home had been an eight-thousand-square-foot mansion in West Vancouver with an in-ground pool and four staff to look after it and her soon-to-be ex-husband and now Doreen’s younger replacement. A smart Barbie doll of twenty-eight. A very smart Barbie doll, as Doreen had found out belatedly.

“Just be grateful you have a home at all,” she reminded herself. “Without Nan giving this place to me, we’d be on the street at this point.” Feeling better, she turned to her pedigreed basset hound, Mugford Horace III, but Mugs to her, and said,

“Right, boy?”

He gave her a droopy-eyed look.

“I know. You’re not impressed either. Still, it’s what we have, and we’re thankful for Nan’s generosity.” Just because Doreen’s life had changed, didn’t mean she wasn’t up for the challenge. She knew there would be days when it would all seem to be too much. But she should be used to that as it described most of the last six years of her marriage anyway.

Doreen had signed the separation forms some two weeks after her husband had asked her to leave their house and their marriage. Right before Thanksgiving, in fact. On her lawyer’s advice, Doreen signed the divorce settlement papers as well—to have it all over with, even though the divorce couldn’t be filed until after she and her husband had been separated for a year. This way offers minimal emotional pain for you, Doreen. You can move on without having to revisit the painful time in your life.

Only, shortly after signing all those papers, Doreen had found out that her divorce lawyer was her husband’s lover… Yeah, life’s a bitch.

And so was her divorce lawyer.

She hadn’t figured out what to do about it yet—if anything. Part of her wanted to walk away and leave him to his money—and new girlfriend. Another part of her wanted to fight him tooth and nail and take the house right out from under him.

But how?

She had no money. Or connections. And although her lawyer was as crooked as they came, how did she trust another one to help her right the wrongs done?

Money bought people. And apparently their loyalty too. She couldn’t afford to lose any more of either.

Mugs nuzzled her hand. She shook her head, bringing herself back to the present, sitting in her car still parked outside her grandmother’s house. Doreen’s new reality. She pulled the keys from the ignition and exited her car.

She walked up to the front door. Her grandmother—Nan as she preferred to be called to avoid the old-age stigma surrounding “grandma” and all such other labels—had said the keys were atop the doorframe. Doreen reached up and found the key ring, and, with relief, she unlocked the door, pushing it wide open.

For better or for worse, this was the first day of the rest of her life.

Pulling her phone out of her suit pocket, she dialed Nan’s number. “Nan, we’re here. Just wanted to let you know.”

“Thank you for calling, dear.”

Doreen heard a rustle on the phone, like Nan covering up the speaker, then she called out as if to someone else in the room, “She’s just arrived. A few minutes before noon. Write that down.”

And that made no sense. While Doreen was still trying to figure out what her grandmother meant, Nan was talking to her again. “Glad you made it safely, dear. Now make a cup of tea and settle in. We’ll talk tomorrow when you’re rested.” Just as Doreen went to hang up, Nan said, “It’s lovely to have you close. I’ll get Marge to stop by in a few days. She’s gone on a holiday so perfect timing, dear.”

Click.

Doreen hung up, shaking her head. Nan was still as quirky as ever. Who was Marge? She wracked her brain looking for a mention of that name and drew a blank. She’d find out later. She had more pressing problems right now. She headed back to the car, to her faithful pet.
“Come on, Mugs.” She opened the passenger door and waited for him to jump down. He raced across the lawn, his nose down, big floppy ears bouncing with every step.

“Mugs, over here.”

He woofed and raced behind her toward the front door.

With him at her side, she stepped across the doorway. She was immediately hit with that lovely aged smell that came with the ancient house.

Knowing her circumstances, Nan had convinced Doreen to move into her house with her until a spot opened up at Rosemoor then she could have the house all to herself. Unexpectedly, a spot opened up and Nan had moved in before Doreen had time to adjust her plans. Doreen had been living with friends—or their empty apartments—since leaving her old home. The last place had belonged to a woman she’d been close to. Unfortunately she hadn’t realized that without the husband, the prestige, the money… the woman no longer considered Doreen a friend. And her hope that this woman’s brother, a lawyer, could help her fix her divorce mistake went out the window.