Fowl Play on Turkey Day: Gary Golem Holiday Series, #2

By Keri Armstrong

Ah, Thanksgiving—a time for family, food, and felonies!

 

Thanksgiving takes a dark turn when the town's prized turkey and its owner mysteriously vanish. Gary's estranged son, Billy Ray, becomes the prime suspect, and Gary's got to navigate through more than just lumpy gravy to uncover the truth.

 

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Gary Golem Holiday Series

Mosey on in to Polly's Diner in Wolfburn, West Virginia, where someone's always brewing up trouble, and the body count for such a small town is scarier than its magical residents.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Highland Publishing, LLC
• Release date: Nov 18, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223034315

Book preview

Fowl Play on Turkey Day

A Gary Golem Thanksgiving Short Story

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Keri Armstrong

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Highland Publishing, LLC

Fowl Play on Turkey Day

A Gary Golem Thanksgiving Short Story

Copyright © 2023 Keri Armstrong

Highland Publishing, LLC

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

For permission requests, email: [e-mail]

Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

Fowl Play on Turkey Day/ Keri Armstrong. – 1st ed.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

From the Author

Also by the Author:

Chapter 1

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Sunday

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I hopped out of my rusty Ford pickup and took a deep breath, letting the smells of the Wolfburn Fall Fair wash over me—sweet corn, fried dough, and just a hint of manure wafting on the cool autumn breeze. My stomach growled louder than a hog at feeding time as I made my way through the crowd, past the Ferris wheel and game booths, towards the turkey competition where unknowing humans competed against their supernatural neighbors for the prize of Top Tom.

I was looking to find Billy Ray there, showing off the bird he’d been raising all year for the blue ribbon prize. I hadn’t seen my adopted son in several months—his mom and I had split up a few years ago—and I was looking forward to hanging out with him for as long as his surly, teenage self would let me.

Before I got to the poultry barn, I spotted that silly witch Suzanne pinning up flyers on the community board, her latest sidekick, Kylee, yammering about save-the-turkeys or some such. Nearby, Sheriff Jenkins leaned against a fence post, devouring a corn dog like he hadn’t eaten in days. His wife, Judy, had a booth set up nearby.

I chuckled. Judy fancied herself a pet psychic, though she was as mundane a human as they come. She was earnestly reading Earl the pig farmer’s muddy palm while a little piglet squirmed under his arm. The pig and I both snorted at her well-meaning but way-off-base advice.

The fairground was filled with both magical and non-magical beings, though the humans like Sheriff Jenkins and his wife didn’t know that. The good sheriff certainly had no clue I was half-werewolf and half-wizard. Nor that the tall, elegant librarian, Maxine—who was currently picking through a box of used books for sale by the pie eating booth—was actually a witch.

I gave Maxine a grin and a wave, and she smiled and waved back, as did the little girl by the pies who thought I was waving at her. The little tyke was about knee-high to a grasshopper and her big grin was smeared with blueberry pie. I gave an extra wave and smile just for her.

Wolfburn was a small town, but times like this I was glad to be part of it. Even more so as I scanned the crowd for one face in particular—Wolfburn’s lovely diner owner, Polly. Just thinking about her warm smile and bouncy brown curls made my heart flutter like a moth around a porch light. I couldn’t wait to invite her to the town’s Thanksgiving parade.

Sighing, I turned towards the poultry barn. It was time to find Billy Ray and try once more to connect with the brooding, troubled boy I called my son.

I moseyed into the barn, where the air was thick with the musk of feathers and feed. Kids were fussing over their prize chickens and turkeys, polishing their beaks, and preening their plumage before the judges came through.

And there was Billy Ray, standing tall next to a turkey that was bigger than a pony. He wore his usual sullen expression—not uncommon for a hybrid vampire—but I could see a glimmer of excitement in his