The Beechwood Harbor Ghost Mysteries

Scarlet Sanderson sees dead people. Literally. As a reluctant conduit between the land of the living and the dearly departed, she is doing her best to have a life of her own.

The first rule of being a ghost whisperer: Don't tell anyone. Seriously. Don't. Sure, it might sound harmless. A fun party trick, even. I assure you, it's not. How do I know? Well, let's just say that I've had a lot of experience with this sort of thing, and nine times out of 10, it turns into an all-consuming disaster.

There's never a good time for a ghost crisis. However, it's particularly inconvenient while I'm trying to tackle my first wedding season. Between 12-hour days, an assistant with a case of butterfingers (not the chocolate kind), and the flood of tourists in town, I'm struggling to keep a grip on my sanity. All I want is three months of peace from the spirit world. But when local ghosts start going missing, I have to do something.

Vacation goals... I have them. Real life is not cooperating. I don't require poolside margaritas under a fancy cabana to have a good time. All I wanted was 10 ghost-free days to enjoy sightseeing New Orleans with my boyfriend, to admire art galleries, listen to live music, and eat as many beignets as I can before my pants stop buttoning. I might as well have asked Santa for a unicorn.

Fresh off my Voodoo-tastic vacation to New Orleans, I find myself presented with the first test of my newly discovered magic. There's been a murder in the neighboring town of Pine Shoals and the victim has decided she's not cut out for the spectral life and needs a gentle push into the Otherworld.

Scarlet's spooky adventures continue in Big Ghosts Don't Cry, Book 4 of the Beechwood Harbor Ghost Mystery series.

I’ve got a ring on my finger and a date circled on the calendar, let the wedding planning begin! As luck would have it, the little wooded chapel I’ve got my heart set on is plagued by the not-so-nice spirit of a former bride. She died on what was meant to be her wedding day and isn’t going to step aside to let anyone else take her place at the altar. She claims the chapel is cursed and points to her own murder as a sure sign, but I’m not convinced.

A reality dating show is filming next door to our rental digs, and besides the giggly pool parties and late night soirees, things are tolerable. At least, until a contestants goes belly - and fabulous ball gown - up in the pool. Suddenly, our vacation suddenly takes a backseat to a murder investigation.

After 20-plus years in the land of the not-so-living, I didn't think a ghost could surprise me. Consider that winning streak over. While looking for the perfect piece of Seattle real estate, leave it to me to find the world's first ghost detective. Yeah, you heard that right. A ghost detective. The Supernatural Protection Agency has written her off as the ghost who cries murder, but this time she swears she's onto something big. Something real. Like a moth to a bonfire, I dive in headfirst, just in time for the trouble she's been following to take a U-turn.

Sometimes a graveside goodbye isn't the end. That's usually when I get a middle of the night phone call. In this case, the person seeking help from their friendly neighborhood reaper is none other than the director of Beechwood's funeral home. Who may be more of a frenemy than a friend. Oops. Here's to hoping I can help rid the funeral home of its latest unwanted guest without burning the last bits of kindling on the bridge back to Karla's good graces. After all, if there's one person you want on your side, it's a summoner of the dead.