Plot Bunnies: Twinkle Tavern Mysteries, #1

By Ava Dunne

Someone killed the Easter Bunny – so who's dancing around the Village Green in his suit? 

Welcome to Twinkle, Vermont.  When her husband is killed in a car crash after a rendezvous with his mistress, Gloria Dunkirk and her teenaged son move in with her mother-in-law. Gloria goes to work at the historical Twinkle Tavern & Green Gate Inn. When her son and his friend discover the body of the man who dresses up for holiday events, they wonder who's impersonating him at the town's Easter Egg event at that very moment? The upside is that Gloria gets to spend time with the sexy Dean Eastlake, Twinkle's favorite detective. The downside is stopping the killer before he strikes again – in minutes.

A Twinkle Tavern Mystery novelette

A Delectable Digital Delight

• Language: English
• Publisher: DEW Books
• Release date: Apr 4, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215157640

Book preview

Plot Bunnies

ATwinkle Tavern Mystery

NOBODY MURDERED THE Easter Bunny. I shoved an annoying strand of red hair out of my face. I had to get it cut—no matter how busy I thought I was.

But Moo-ooo-oom. Max glared at me. My twelve-year-old son didn’t just share my red hair and gray eyes, but also my stubborn temperament.

He’s right there. I pointed at the poor sod hired to clump around all morning in a bunny suit at the town’s Easter celebration. It could be worse. Raining. Or snowing. Which wasn’t that unusual for an Easter Sunday in Vermont.

Then his twin in a rabbit suit’s lying behind the shed, Max insisted. Not drunk, either. There’s no pulse.

You touched him?

I wanted to see if it was worth doing CPR.

I never should have left him take those Red Cross training classes. But they were taught by Dean Eastlake, with black hair and blue eyes...one of the most gorgeous men I’d ever seen. We were new in town, and I wanted to get to know Dean Eastlake. I let Max take the classes because it was too late for him to try out for the baseball team until summer season, and now he went around trying to revive corpses. I didn’t want to go there.

Mrs. Dunkirk, it’s not a joke. Stan Grenlish, Max’s first friend in town, slid his black-framed glasses back up his nose and blinked five or six times in quick succession through them at me. There’s a guy in a rabbit suit lying back there behind the shed. He pointed toward the town hall.

He got up since you saw him. I skipped over the no pulse part. He’s prancing around, flirting with Francie Dufresne. Who just happened to be married to Robert Dufresne, one of the richest men in town. And who spent her spare time flirting with Dean Eastlake. I looked at the two boys, staring at me. The earnest expression on their faces meant I had to check it out for myself. If this is a joke, I warned.

I know my humor’s a little questionable sometimes, Mom, but this is no joke. Max tossed his baseball in the air and caught it. Over and over again. It was an annoying habit he’d picked up from his father.

I sighed. Okay. Let’s take a look.

The tension in Max’s shoulders eased the moment I said it, and I was hit with a bout of bad mommy guilt. Thanks, Mom.

We crossed the town common toward the town hall. The common was a