The Strange Mystery of Rabbit and the Stolen Song: Rabbit Stories, #3

By Leah Cutter

Rabbit tries to catch the eye of the beautiful shopkeeper's daughter by helping her father. His mynah bird has suddenly lost its voice. 

However, the mystery runs much deeper and involves not only the shopkeeper's daughter but the secret life of one of Rabbit's friends.

This mystery takes place during the Tang dynasty, in China. 

If you love light mysteries with a lot of character and voice, you'll love all the Rabbit stories! 

Be sure to read the other Rabbit stories:

The Curious Case of Rabbit and the Temple Goddess
Rabbit and the Mysteriously Missing Daughter
Rabbit, The Dastardly Thief, and the Disappearing Dragon

• Language: English
• Publisher: Knotted Road Press
• Release date: Jun 21, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386276975

Leah Cutter

Leah Cutter--a Crawford Award Finalist--writes page-turning fiction in exotic locations, such as New Orleans, ancient China, the Oregon coast, ancient Japan, rual Kentucky, Seattle, Minneapolis, Budapest, etc.  Find more fiction by Leah Cutter at www.KnottedRoadPress.com. Follow her blog at www.LeahCutter.com.

Book preview

The Strange Mystery of Rabbit and the Stolen Song

The Strange Mystery of Rabbit and the

Stolen

Song

The Rabbit Stories:

Volume

III

Leah Cutter

Knotted Road Press

Contents

The Strange Mystery of Rabbit and the Stolen Song

Other Rabbit Stories

About the Author

Also by Leah Cutter

The Strange Mystery of Rabbit and the

Stolen

Song

Too many choices .

That was all I could think while looking at the walls in the shop, covered in Ri Wong’s brooms. Oil lamps lit the crowded space and warmed the chill autumn air. Sweet jasmine incense scented the shop, wafting from a discrete altar in the corner, dedicated to Tu Di Gong, a god of wealth and merchants.

I gripped my hands together, letting the sleeves from my second-best gray robe cover them and hide my apprehension while I contemplated my choices. Master Wei had been trying to break me of the habit of wringing my hands, going so far as to point out that even my namesake, rabbits, weren’t as skittish as I

generally

was

.

Rabbits didn’t have Masters like him. Or Mothers

like

mine

.

Mother had told me to buy a broom on my way home from the law office where I was an apprentice to Master Wei. She hadn’t bothered to tell me

what

kind

.

How could I choose the right broom for Mother when there were so many? Did she want one made from wooden twigs that would leave crooked, artistic patterns in the sand of the courtyard when she swept away the fall leaves? Or maybe one made from fine bristles that would clean away even the smallest grain of dust from the wooden floors inside our house? Did she need one for the front room with a poem of welcome carved into the handle? Or perhaps