Wake the Dead

By Patti Larsen

Common mortality or cunning murder? Sometimes a little magic goes a long way...

Retired Guild Artemis Inquisitor Georgia Drake, with help from her Hades mastiff, Benjamin, is asked to investigate the death of a wealthy local patriarch on her new home, Whitewitch Island. While his normal human family insists he died from natural causes, her friend, medical examiner and necromancer, Dr. Mavis Fernsby, seems to think he’s been murdered. And with his wife, a fellow paranormal hiding among mortals, begging for answers, how can Georgia say no?

What’s more interesting, however? The strange, stray magic lingering around the family estate where power shouldn’t exist, doing its best to distract her from the case she’s there to solve.

With the clock running out and the family ready to consign the body to its eternal rest, can Georgia, Mavis and Benny find justice for the dead? Or will a wee bit of magic be enough to disguise the truth?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Patti Larsen
• Release date: Mar 8, 2022
• ISBN: 9781989925560

Patti Larsen

About me, huh? Well, my official bio reads like this: Patti Larsen is a multiple award-winning author with a passion for the voices in her head. But that sounds so freaking formal, doesn’t it? I’m a storyteller who hears character's demands so loudly I have to write them down. I love the idea of sports even though sports hate me. I’ve dabbled in everything from improv theater to film making and writing TV shows, singing in an all girl band to running my own hair salon.But always, always, writing books calls me home.I’ve had my sights set on world literary domination for a while now. Which means getting my books out there, to you, my darling readers. It’s the coolest thing ever, this job of mine, being able to tell stories I love, only to see them all shiny and happy in your hands... thank you for reading.As for the rest of it, I’m short (permanent), slightly round (changeable) and blonde (for ever and ever). I love to talk one on one about the deepest topics and can’t seem to stop seeing the big picture. I happily live on Prince Edward Island, Canada, home to Anne of Green Gables and the most beautiful red beaches in the world, with my pug overlord and overlady, six lazy cats and Gypsy Vanner gelding, Fynn.

Book preview

Wake the Dead

Whitewitch Island Paranormal Cozies: Five

Patti Larsen

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2022 by Patti Larsen

Find out more about me at

http://www.pattilarsen.com/home

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Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the vendor and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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Chapter One

Benjamin shifted beside me on the leather seat, his giant forehead pressed to the glass of the side window as the limousine carried us up the long, winding and tree-lined driveway. I had my own view out the opposite side of the car, though to call the passing oaks and maples and evergreens a view was a bit of an overstatement. Curiosity had me holding my impatience in check, however, this unexpected invitation to the farthest tip of Whitewitch Island and the remote and carefully guarded private estate that dominated the fifty or so acres of woodland and cliffsides the only part of my new home I had, as yet, to explore.

Not the reason I agreed to climb into the stretch on short notice, however, my hastily donned black dress and heels, modest jewelry and carefully tied-back hair the best choice for the event I was about to attend. Certainly, such a need for privacy as the Carrigan family seemed to have stirred the retired Guild Artemis Inquisitor in me, but not so far as to prod me to inquire further when the rest of the island was open to my exploration and enjoyment. I’d grown up in a society of secrets, after all, the powerful paranormal families who made up my childhood far more guarded and protective of their personal lives than any mere normal human could accomplish. Magic was an excellent tool when it came to such matters, requiring little in the way of gates and walls and security systems.

My own personal security system, case in point, yawned hugely as the giant Guild Hades dropout lolled out his large, pink tongue, white teeth flashing before he met my eyes with his own shining black ones, his velvet-soft ears intact, long tail, also undocked, thudding against the leather seat as he nudged me gently with his big, black nose.

I love mysteries, Mother, the mastiff sent, though the driver had closed off the glass between him and us. But Benjamin was nothing if not careful and cautious when it came to the humans we found ourselves living amongst, his mental voice as deep as his physical. It made me sad sometimes the massive canine, bigger than a normal mastiff by inches and at least fifty pounds, had the body of a guardian and protector and the heart of an angel. Mavis is so good at them, isn’t she?

I grinned and stroked his soft ears, so glad I’d been in time to adopt him when he was dropped from the Hades Hound program before he could be reallocated. I’d only had him in my life for a short two-and-a-half years, but Benny’s presence was as comfortable and familiar now as if he’d always been with me and I couldn’t imagine my life without him.

Didn’t want to. Would do everything in my power to prevent the unthinkable.

If he sensed my unease, he didn’t show it, licking his chops again as his big head swiveled for another look out the window. It was a good thing they sent a stretch. He was so big I barely had a place to sit.

She certainly is when she wants to be, I sent back. Whatever this is about, she’s playing it close. No visit, no call, just a hasty mental message from the also retired Guild Hades necromancer turned local ME, Dr. Mavis Fernsby.

I need your help, she’d sent. You and Benny. I’ve sent a car. Five minutes. Wear black.

She was lucky I had magic to call on because five minutes was exactly accurate and there was no way I would have been able to transform from lying around in bed all day chic to composed and professional without it. And that I even agreed to come in the first place. She hadn’t called on me for the fun of it, though, that much was certain. Her message felt far too urgent and any attempt to reach her afterward was blocked firmly from follow through. The fact I was still under rather uncomfortable and unhappy orders from local law enforcement had me hesitating. I adored Sheriff Harriet Quinn and had chosen to follow her directive, to stay out of her hair and away from crime investigation, despite our excellent track record. Though it stung to have her make the request, I was well aware Harriet faced a difficult conundrum of her own, the island’s municipal council attempting to pull strings that she fought continually. Any trouble I stirred up would put her in a terrible position and that was the last thing I wanted for my friend.

And yet. This was Mavis Fernsby we were talking about. How could I say no?

The car moved through the tree line at last, the break in shadows cast by the overarching branches turning the tunnel of darkness into bright afternoon sunlight making me blink despite the faint tint to the windows as the limo smoothly navigated the paved lane, now widening out to accommodate more vehicles as I realized we weren’t the only ones making our way to the towering estate visible up ahead.

In fact, there were multiple limos and black sedans dropping people off at the giant double doors of the castle-like stone entry, men and women dressed in black, climbing the gray stone steps to the carved front doors.

Instead of pulling up behind the last car in line, however, our driver veered off, circling the far end of the sprawling building, artfully curated bushes and flowerbeds dominating the pristine estate’s surrounds, the smooth hum of asphalt turning to the crunch of gravel under the limo’s big tires, only coming to a halt once we’d reached the back of the house and the massive garden stretching out toward the ocean.

I didn’t wait for the driver to open my door, letting myself out, Benjamin hopping down beside me before shaking out