Written to Death: Wines, Spines, & Crimes Book Club Cozy Mysteries, #9

By Elodie Hart

What do you get with two famous authors on one small island? Murder.

 

This was the first and last book event Harper Lansbury ever wanted to be involved in. Abigail Carlan was a prolific and popular romance author, ending the final stop of her book tour on her home of Marilee Island. Things should be all well and good, but that would be too easy. Helping organize the final leg of a country-wide book tour was Harper's dream…until the book signing ended with a dead body. Now there's a dead publicist, two competing authors, and a jealous co-worker all competing for the top spot on the suspect list. Add in a rumor about Abigail not writing her own books and this mystery takes a whole different turn. When a second murder happens, the most likely suspect is the one Harper knows is innocent. The only question is, who is the real killer? 

 

Can Harper and the book club ladies solve the murders or will an innocent person take the fall?

 

Written to Death is the ninth and final book in the Wines, Spines, and Crimes Book Club Cozy Mystery series. Get your copy today to join Harper and the book club ladies as they uncover the truth in this fast-paced installment in the Wines, Spines, and Crimes Book Club Cozy Mystery series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Elodie Hart
• Release date: Feb 4, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224902026

Elodie Hart

Elodie Hart was raised on old detective movies and mystery books. She loves a good puzzle (literally and figuratively), cuddling with dogs, and exploring small towns. The Tea Room Cozy Mystery Series is the first of many books she’ll write.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Is everything ready?

Glancing over her shoulder, Harper Lansbury smiled at her boss. We’re ready.

Martin nodded. Good. We’ll open the doors in ten minutes then.

Got it.

Martin Hayworth was the head librarian at the Marilee Public Library on small Marilee Island off the coast of Southern California. In his mid-fifties, he constantly talked about retiring and leaving Harper in charge, but she kept pushing that back on him and saying it wouldn’t happen for another decade, especially not if she had to run events like this all by herself.

Today was the day. For the past three months, Harper had been working on making this book event the talk of the town. Not only was it the first event of its kind at the small public library on their island, but the principal author was a local.

Neatly stacked books awaited autographs for eager customers from the Abigail Carlan. The island’s bookstore was selling the books for the event but was too small to host it, which is why it was at the library instead. On a small island, everyone worked together, and judging from the crowd gathering in the library, it seemed like they would sell all the books.

As one of the most prolific and popular romance authors of the modern era, Abigail was finishing her whirlwind book tour on their little island. The entire island had rolled out the red carpet to welcome her home. Abigail was a source of pride and joy because she was a local from the island. And now, she was also a source of boosted tourism. Not only were locals coming to the book signing, but the ferries had been overflowing with tourists from the mainland of California ever since yesterday.

Granted, since it was May, it was the beginning of the busy time of year on the island, but there were more tourists than usual. Everyone said it was because of Abigail and her books.

But Abigail wasn’t the only author at this event. Turning her attention to the other table and the books laid out in a perfect mirror image of Abigail’s table, Harper ran a critical eye to make sure everything was in place for Rene Cardennon’s books. As another popular romance author, Rene was on the same book tour as Abigail. They were both part of the same publishing house, so the publicity team had them join forces for the book tour.

Two birds with one stone and all that, Harper murmured as she straightened a stack of books and stepped back to give both tables one last glance. Looks good.

Ever since the library closed at six o’clock an hour ago, it had been all hands on deck. The six assistant librarians, plus Harper and Martin, had been rushing around to get everything ready. They had to move bookshelves aside and open up the middle reading area to make room for all the chairs. Fortunately, the large reading area in the middle of the library, sitting beneath skylights in a sunburst design, was large enough that they only had to shift a few of those heavy bookshelves. Luckily, Harper had prepped the book tables in advance, so they didn’t have to rush around in too much chaos.

Hurrying to the back of the library to the employee lounge where the authors and their publicists waited, Harper gave Martin a thumbs up. It was time to begin.

Hello, we’re going to start in ten minutes, Harper said, smiling as she walked into the lounge and found nothing but tense silence waiting for her. Nobody looked at each other. In fact, everyone was purposefully avoiding eye contact with anyone. Is everything okay?

Just fine. Don’t worry. Abigail is ready to begin whenever you are, said Lorelei Dupont, the publicist assigned to Abigail. She had razor-sharp nails painted a vibrant flamingo pink to match her staggeringly tall high heels. Her navy blue jumpsuit featured a light yellow floral design. Black hair cut in a shoulder-length bob was sleek and smooth, giving her a sharp no-nonsense image.

And Rene isn’t? Is that what you’re implying? Brandon Tipperny shot back, arms crossed over his chest as he scowled at Lorelei. He was the Rene’s publicist.

Not at all, but Abigail has a bit more experience in these things, and I can only speak for my author, not yours.

We’re fine, Brandon grit out from between clenched teeth, his brown eyes practically shooting lasers at Lorelei.

I’ve done this a time or two before, Lorelei. Just keep your author under control, Rene Cardennon sneered, glaring at Abigail with pure hatred in her hazel eyes.

Under control? I’m not some wild animal, Abigail shot back, blue eyes cold as ice and lips pinched together in a straight line.

For a second, Harper thought the entire event would have to be called off. They couldn’t host a book signing if the two authors were at each other’s throats. That’s not the kind of event the library wanted to be known for. She studied them all carefully for a moment, trying to come up with a plan.

Lorelei smiled widely at Harper, pink lipstick perfectly matching her high heels designed to make her shorter frame reach the same height as the others. She knew what her job was and did it well. From their contact before the event, Harper knew Lorelei was a consummate professional—in emails, at least.

Then there was Brandon. His trimmed beard gave him a dignified look, but his nasal voice made him sound like he had a perpetual cold. A well-tailored suit clung to his average frame, which was roughly five-foot-ten, not much taller than the ladies, but a perfectly respectable height. In terms of professionalism, Harper would say he was just as professional as Lorelei, if a bit more casual in his approach.

Abigail was a highly prolific and popular author—a fact she seemed to know and rub in the others’ faces. She and Rene were competitors, but Harper didn’t know if that would bleed out onto the stage during the event. They could be trouble for sure and trouble was exactly what Harper wanted to avoid.

As she considered the options, another person caught her eye. Calm, collected, and far meeker than anyone else in that room, Abigail’s sister and assistant raised her hand to catch Harper’s attention.

We’ll all be ready, Emma Carlan said with a friendly smile, her blue eyes friendly and warm, so unlike the icy stare Abigail gave everyone. It was reassuring, considering the others all shot lasers at each other with their glances.

Harper glanced between all of them for a moment before she slowly nodded. Once everyone sits down, I’ll come get you. It’ll be roughly ten minutes from now.

Nobody other than Emma acknowledged her, but Harper wasn’t going to push it. If things didn’t calm down between those four in the next ten minutes, she would have a different sort of trouble on her hands.

Letting out a slow and long breath, Harper walked back to the large reading area that would be the stage for the event. Martin waited there for her, going over his notes one more time as attendees filtered in through the front doors.

Problem? Martin asked lowly to not let others overhear.

I hope not. It’s probably just a bit of tension between them, but I think things will be okay, she whispered, desperately hoping that was true.

Martin raised his eyebrows and studied her over the top of his gold, wire-rimmed glasses before he pursed his lips and nodded. Keep me updated.

Will do.

As Harper turned around, two familiar people caught her eye as they rushed toward her.

Is she really here? Bernie asked, clutching Harper’s arm. Oh, I’m going to pinch myself!

Harper smiled and patted her hand. Yeah, she’s really here. They both are.

Hurry, let’s get front-row seats and save them for the others, Dana whispered, nudging Bernie in the back and prodding her forward. We can talk to Harper later.

I’ll see you all after the event, Harper said, stepping back to let Dana lead the charge toward the front to save seats for the other three members of the book club.

Both in their mid-sixties, Bernie and Dana were best friends, similar and yet so different. Bernadette Bernie Alcott had a coastal grandmother aesthetic with her matching shirt and cardigan while letting the natural gray of her hair frame her face in a stylish pixie cut. On the other hand, Dana Whitby preferred a flowy, boho style with long tunics, multiple bracelets around her wrists, rings stacked on her paint-stained fingers from hours spent in her artist studio, and always dyed her hair a rich chestnut color.

They were also the founding members of the monthly book club Harper was a part of—Wines and Spines. The book of the month was Love Comes Again Under a Full Moon by Abigail Carlan, her newest book that she was promoting today.

As Harper watched them pick the best seats front and center in the audience, she shook her head at their antics. They were a bit quirky, but she wouldn’t trade them for anything.

Martin tapped his watch and Harper nodded, turning around to go back to the waiting authors to shepherd them toward the stage while Martin opened the event.

It had only been a few minutes, but it would take Martin another five minutes to get everyone settled and give a brief opening statement. That was plenty of time to check on the mood of the authors and make sure everyone would play nice while on stage. If not, she would have to rush to get Martin to cancel the event.

Inside the employee lounge, the two authors and their publicists were ready. Palpable tension filled the air, but at least no one made cutting remarks anymore. Harper counted that as an improvement.

We’re ready for you now. Martin is just finishing his opening comments and then he’ll introduce you all one by one, Harper said, holding the door open for them.

"Is he doing it in