Town in a Pumpkin Bash
Read Town in a Pumpkin Bash Online
Authors: B. B. Haywood
Praise for
“[A] terrific tale…With a great stunning final twist to complete a strong regional
whodunit, fans will enjoy
Town in a Wild Moose Chase
.”
—The Mystery Gazette
“The third book in a well-written series, the appearance of a white moose and the
big hints about a conspiracy will keep the reader enthralled. While
Town in a Wild Moose Chase
was complete, the ending leaves the reader waiting for the next in the series.”
—Fresh Fiction
“Candy is a sensible, interesting young woman who takes her time and thinks things
through before she jumps in feetfirst.”
—The Mystery Reader
“[A] fun and likeable amateur sleuth…With a little bit of romance thrown in, this
one has a recipe for success.”
—The Romance Readers Connection
“A fun, atmospheric mystery, perfect for lounging bayside waiting for the boats to
bring in their latest catch.”
—The Mystery Reader
“This is a charming cozy…With seafood and recipes adding to the flavor of a
Town in a Lobster Stew
, subgenre fans will enjoy spending early summer in Maine.”
—The Mystery Gazette
“A savory read, which brings the people of coastal Maine to life. It leaves Candy
Holliday fans with a taste for more of her misadventures.”
—Bangor (ME) Daily News
“In this debut mystery, Haywood has picked a winning combination of good food and
endearing characters.”
—Sheila Connolly, national bestselling author of
Sour Apples
“This is a charming and amusing Pine Tree State cozy in which Cape Willington is vividly
described so that the reader feels they are attending the Blueberry Festival. The
cast is solid as the residents bring out the ambience of the seaside village…A fresh
spin to B. B. Haywood’s first Candy Holliday whodunit.”
—The Best Reviews
“A delicious mix of yummy food and a good, small-town mystery.”
—The Romance Readers Connection
“A winning combination of great characters, warm setting, and mischievous locals will
appeal to cozy lovers everywhere.”
—RT Book Reviews
“An interesting cast of characters in a quaint Maine town. It’s not Cabot Cove, and
thank God for that. Candy Holliday is an intriguing new sleuth in the lighthearted
mystery genre.”
—Bangor (ME) Daily News
Berkley Prime Crime titles by B. B. Haywood
TOWN IN A BLUEBERRY JAM
TOWN IN A LOBSTER STEW
TOWN IN A WILD MOOSE CHASE
TOWN IN A PUMPKIN BASH
Pumpkin Bash
B. B. Haywood
BERKLEY PRIME CRIME, NEW YORK
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
Published by the Penguin Group
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the
product of the author’s
imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living
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establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not
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PUBLISHER’S NOTE: The recipes contained in this book are to be followed exactly as
written.
The publisher is not responsible for your specific health or allergy needs that may
require
medical supervision. The publisher is not responsible for any adverse
reactions to the recipes contained in this book.
TOWN IN A PUMPKIN BASH
A Berkley Prime Crime Book / published by arrangement with the author
PUBLISHING HISTORY
Berkley Prime Crime mass-market edition / February 2013
Copyright © 2013 by Robert R. Feeman and Beth Ann Feeman.
Cover illustration by Teresa Fasolino.
Cover design by Diana Kolsky.
Interior text design by Kristin del Rosario.
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ISBN: 978-1-101-62366-4
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| ALWAYS LEARNING | PEARSON |
For Sarah James and Drift,
and for Matthew
PROLOGUE
At first he thought he had wandered into a graveyard.
He’d been looking down, careful of his footing in the darkness, and only when he glanced
up and around, spooked by a sound in the woods nearby, had he noticed the tall, arched
headstones on either side of him. Sprouting from a flat, open space, they stood like
black sentinels against the shadowy landscape, lit only by the angled beam of his
flashlight and the muted glow of a half-hidden gibbous moon, a few days from full,
its face smeared by a swath of thin, strung-out cloud.
Instinctively he took several steps back, horrified that he might just have walked
over someone’s dead body.
On somewhat safer ground, he stilled himself and listened. There had been a sound,
a whistle or low whisper from a stand of trees in front of him and to his left. He
was sure of it. He lifted the flashlight and shined it in the general direction of
the trees, flicking it around. “Hello?” he called into the darkness. “Is that you?”
He shifted the light from tree to tree, searching the shadows, but saw and heard no
one.
Not for the first time, he wondered if this was a good idea. The message had been
vague at best. Meet here, in this isolated pumpkin patch in Down East Maine, an hour
before midnight. It was an urgent matter, the message had said, though no more details
were provided. But the implications were too worrisome for him to ignore.