About the Book
Courtney is delighted when her tiny friend Fiona returns from the fairy realm, appearing at the base of a Cypress tree. When her Ragdoll cat, Pixie, emerges from her own portal—aka the cat door—the three set off for a busy day. Busier than usual, since Courtney has rented a small plot of land at the Flower Farm, where she hopes to grow her own supplies for her fairy-garden business. Plus, the annual Summer Blooms Festival is coming up, and Courtney has booked a booth . . .
But the murder of Courtney’s friend, Genevieve, casts a pall over the festival. Ever since Genevieve sold her floral business, she’d been building a career as an influencer. She was perennially opinionated—but in her new role she’d become surprisingly vicious, dissing local entrepreneurs with nasty posts and unwarranted bad reviews. That’s landed a couple of Courtney’s other friends on the suspect list—including Flower Farm owner Daphne Flores. And when a second victim is discovered, seeds of doubt about Daphne’s innocence sprout in Courtney’s mind. With only a germ of a clue, Courtney will have to overturn every rock to get the dirt on the real killer . . .
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Excerpt
Exhale, Courtney! I was holding my breath
the way I did whenever I got too stressed. My father always teased me if he
caught me doing it. Take it one task at a time, kitten, he’d
say. My unease wasn’t because of the tea I was drinking in my backyard, and it
certainly wasn’t because of the lovely twittering of birds. I adored their
merry song. No, it was due to the list I was composing of all the things I
needed to address in the coming week: the Summer Blooms Festival, multiple
fairy garden classes, and hosting the Saturday book club tea at the shop.
Sometimes I overscheduled myself. You’d think by now I’d have learned not
to. Um, yeah. No.
Suddenly, the base of the cypress tree started to glow and
sparkle, and a shimmering fairy portal about six inches wide materialized.
Seconds later, Fiona tiptoed through it.
“You’re here!” I exclaimed, leaping from my chair. “You’re
alive. You’re okay.” Relief washed over me as I rushed to her. My bare feet and
the hem of my pajamas were getting wet from the puddles left by the recent
rain, but I didn’t care. “I missed you!” I squealed and scooped her into my
hands. I kissed her nose. “Are you all right?”
“Yes.”
Her gossamer wings were intact. Her silver dress and
slippers were as clean as a whistle. I’d met my teensy fairy friend over a year
ago when I’d opened my fairy garden shop in downtown Carmel-by-the-Sea. I’d
believed in fairies as a girl, but I’d lost the ability to see them until that
wonderful, fateful day.
“Did your mother chastise you?” I turned her in my hands
searching for what, I wasn’t sure. I didn’t think her mother, the queen fairy,
would harm her eldest daughter. “Your hair is a different color. It’s silver.”
“I asked for a favor. I was getting tired of the blue. It
goes nicely with my outfit, don’t you think?” She grabbed the seams of her
skirt and curtsied.
“It’s lovely. Your wings look bigger. Have they grown?”
“Not in a month.” She tittered and billowed them out.
A month. She’d been gone a whole month. Wow, time had
flown! Not. Since she’d passed through the fairy portal in mid-May,
I’d kept my nose to the grindstone, doing my best not to think about how I’d
feel if she never returned from the fairy realm. To distract myself—as if the
shop didn’t keep me busy enough—I’d invested in a garden plot, repainted my
bedroom, and added more private classes to my weekly roster of fairy garden
instruction.
“How I missed the smell of the ocean!” Fiona spiraled into
the air, did a pirouette, and alit on my shoulder. “Can we go for a walk on the
beach?”
“Of course.” It was Wednesday, but I didn’t have to be at
Open Your Imagination as early as usual because Joss, my stalwart assistant,
said she had a surprise for me and wanted to open the store on her own.
My Ragdoll cat, Pixie, pushed through her cat door and
scampered to us. She rose on her hind legs and meowed to Fiona. Like me, she’d
missed her friend dearly. She’d been moping. At home. At work. Every time I
tried to soothe her, she would turn heel and bat me with her tail.
Fiona flitted to Pixie’s head and did a toe-heel-kick-step
on the flame markings on the cat’s forehead. Pixie mewled merrily and swatted
at Fiona, but the little fairy was swift and sailed to a branch of the cypress.
From that viewpoint, she said, “The garden looks pretty.”
“Thanks.” After moving in, I’d landscaped it to my
liking, adding wisteria, impatiens, and herbs that grew naturally beneath the
towering cypress trees. Fairy gardens stood in the four corners of the yard.
I’d set a copper fountain featuring a fairy pouring water into a shell at
the center near the wicker table where I was having my coffee.
“You’ve planted roses,” she said.
“I did.” Along the paths leading to each of the fairy
gardens, I’d planted white floribundas. They boasted peony-shaped flowers with
bright, glossy foliage and emitted a fruity aroma with a hint of champagne. “I
found them at Flower Farm. The owner, Daphne Flores, sold me fully-grown
plants, but she’s renting me a quarter-acre of the farm so I can nurture them
from cuttings and transplant them, too.”
Carmel-by-the-Sea was a beautiful town located on the coast
of California about two hours south of San Francisco. It was blessed with a
moderate climate and populated with some of the most artistic and eco-friendly
people in the world. There were lots of farms and ranches as well as wildlife
trails and parks. Nearly everyone I knew loved to tinker in their gardens.
“In fact, I’m thinking of cultivating other plants on the
quarter-acre, plants that we use in the fairy gardens,” I said. “Hattie
suggested I stop outsourcing it and do it for myself.” Hattie Hopewell was
president of the Happy Diggers Garden Club. Every member of the club was a
regular customer at Open Your Imagination. “Good idea, don’t you think?”
“When will you find time to do everything?”
“You know me. I thrive when tending a garden. Besides, sleep
is highly overrated.”
Fiona giggled. “Well, gardening suits you. Your cheeks are
rosy. You look very pretty.”
“Tà,” I said, using her native word for thanks.
Fiona fluttered to my cheek and kissed it. “Are you and
Brady still, um, happy?”
“Yes. Very.”
Brady, the owner of the Hideaway Café that was located in
the courtyard across the street from my shop, was now officially my boyfriend.
We had a standing date on Mondays—our days off—and we got together occasionally
during the week. He and I met in high school, and when we recently became
reacquainted, it felt right to spend more time together. He got me
like nobody ever had. Plus, he didn’t make fun of my ability to see fairies.
Fiona said, “Has he, you know, seen her yet?”
“Her?”
“The fairy at the café.”
Last month, we caught sight of a fairy in the vines on the
café’s patio. I didn’t know her name; neither did Fiona. She was very shy.
“Not yet.”
I retreated inside, threw on a pair of shorts, an I
Love Carmel T-shirt, and sandals, and with Fiona riding on my
shoulder, strolled down Ocean Avenue to Carmel Beach, a spectacular arc
of pale sand that stretched for close to a mile in length.
About the Author
Agatha Award-winning author Daryl Wood Gerber is best known for her nationally bestselling mysteries, including the Fairy Garden Mysteries and Cookbook Nook Mysteries. As Avery Aames, she penned the popular Cheese Shop Mysteries. In addition, Daryl writes suspense including the well received The Son’s Secret, Girl on the Run, and the popular Aspen Adams series. Recently Daryl, who loves a challenge, published a Christmas romance, Hope for the Holidays. Fun Tidbit: as an actress, Daryl appeared in “Murder, She Wrote.” She loves to cook, garden, read, and walk her frisky Goldendoodle. Also she has been known to jump out of a perfectly good airplane. You can learn more on her website: https://darylwoodgerber.com
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