Ebb Tide: A Forgotten Coast Florida Suspense Prequel Novelette: The Forgotten Coast Florida Suspense Series, #0

By Dawn McKenna

No one is ever exactly as they seem, no matter how well you think you know them.

Maggie Seward's first case as a criminal investigator with the Franklin County Sheriff's Office involves the shooting death of an elderly man during what appears to be a home robbery. Who broke into the French's home? Was Robert French's murder the reason for the break-in, or a terrible, unexpected result?

The people of this quaint coastal area in the Florida Panhandle are shocked by the crime, but one of them is the one who pulled the trigger, killing a man who only had a few months to live.

Meanwhile, Maggie struggles to understand new mysteries in her own marriage. What is her husband and best friend really doing to earn a living? What other secrets is he keeping?

This is a novellette, not one of the regular books in the bestselling series. It is intended as a short "extra" or "bonus" read, and is also a prequel; set four years before the first book, Low Tide. It is intended for those who have read the series, and the fun is in knowing what is in store for these now-beloved characters.

As such, it's not a good introduction to the Forgotten Coast Florida Suspense series, and would not be the best entertainment value for your dollar.

New readers are always welcome to the fold, but this isn't the book for them. For that, check out the boxed set of the first four books, which is available at the same price. Then come back...we'll leave a light on for ya..

The Forgotten Coast Florida Suspense series is clean suspense, with very little violence, very mild language and no sexual content. It is rich in coastal atmosphere, populated by textured, full-realized characters and liberally seasoned with dry humor.

• Language: English
• Publisher: The Sweet Tea Press
• Release date: Apr 28, 2019
• ISBN: 9798224533541

Book preview

1

Monday, July 23rd, 2011

Maggie Seward reached over and smacked her alarm clock until it stopped alarming her. She blinked several times as she struggled for the motivation to get up. At 4:40 in the morning, it was still dark outside her open bedroom windows, but it was at least eighty-degrees already and neither Maggie nor the birds felt like getting up.

She didn’t need to look over her shoulder to know that her husband wasn’t in bed beside her; she could feel his absence, like an unfinished space in the air around her.

She suddenly remembered that today was her first day as a lieutenant in the Franklin County Sheriff’s Office, after almost a year of study, training and testing for the promotion. She sat up, swung her legs over the side of the bed, and put her feet down on the old hardwood floor.

Coco, half-Lab and half-Catahoula, jumped down from the bed, her tags jangling. She knew the routine well, and nosed the partially-closed door open. It swung out with a faint squeak, and Maggie heard Coco’s toenails as the dog quickly made her way to the kitchen. She was just a year old, and still had her puppylike enthusiasm for pretty much everything. Maggie had just turned thirty-three, and she’d already lost some of hers. She got up and walked to the hall bathroom.

She splashed a few handfuls of lukewarm water over her face before looking into the mirror. There were dark creases beneath her green eyes, and her chin-length dark brown hair could use a trim. At her birthday dinner a few weeks ago, David had told her she was prettier than she’d been the year before, but he’d been saying that since they were twelve.

Maggie made her way down the hall, peeking into the kids’ bedrooms on the way. Six-year old Kyle slept on his stomach, his favorite stuffed dolphin clutched in one hand. Her twelve-year old daughter Sky was sprawled across her bed like a starfish.

Maggie heard her husband’s gentle snoring as she reached the end of the hall. Coco was sitting in front of the couch, waiting for her. She walked over, brushed a hank of David’s black hair from his eyes, and straightened the quilt he’d slept with despite the heat. The faded odor of beer rose with each of his breaths, and Maggie picked up an empty can from the coffee table. There would be several more in the trash can in the kitchen. She didn’t need fifteen years as deputy to know that, just several months’ experience. She tossed the empty can into the trash, then turned on the espresso machine.

Once her coffee was ready, Maggie walked out onto the deck of the old cypress stilt house her grandfather had built, coffee in one hand and a bowl of kitchen scraps in the other. Coco raced down the stairs ahead of her and went to conduct her business as Maggie made her way across the yard to the chicken coop.

She opened the gate to the chicken yard, and the hens were rallying within the coop by the time she’d shut it behind her. Amidst all the clucking and chirruping was one uninspired crow.

Maggie opened the door to the coop and the chickens poured forth like water from a hose. Maggie tossed the scraps, and then set down the bowl and ducked her head to walk into the coop.

Her rooster, a one-year old Ameraucana, sat hunch-necked in one of the nesting boxes. He peered at her with a jerk of the head. Maggie sighed.

I don’t know if you think you’re a hen, have too much nurturing instinct, or you just think this is an excuse to stay out of the sun, but you need to come out and do your job.

He cocked his other eye at her, emitting a few warbles.

Stoopid, she said flatly. He tucked his head under a wing to peck at an itch, real or imaginary. Fine, then.

She reached in with both hands and plucked him out of the nesting box. Feathers and dust flew hither and yon, and as she carried Stoopid out to the chicken yard, he squawked like he thought she was going to bite him in the neck.

I don’t have time for any of your mental illnesses, she said as he flapped to the ground.

He noticed that breakfast had been served and muscled his way through his girlfriends, snatched up a leaf of lettuce, and gamboled over to a quiet corner.