Resultados de "Sam Cheever" en Todas las categorias

My name is Phillipa Hilda Schultz, but everybody calls me Pippi (It’s pronounced pee-pee. Yeah, I know). I run a boarding house for people in the early winter of their lives. You know what I mean… People whose leaves are thinning, and whose lawns are slightly frosty in the early mornings. I inherited the business from my grams and had no experience running a boarding house when I stepped in. There’s no question I’ve had my hands full. Fractious boarders, broken appliances, leaky roofs, and a very distracting next-door neighbor who makes my engine rev. (Oops…did I say that last thing out loud?)

My name is Phillipa Hilda Schultz, but everybody calls me Pippi (It’s pronounced pee-pee. Yeah, I know). I run a boarding house for people in the early winter of their lives. You know what I mean… People whose leaves are thinning, and whose lawns are slightly frosty in the early mornings.

Pratt Davies is a police detective with the Saint Louis PD. He’s comfortable in his role…confident that he’s seen just about everything there is to see. Until he and his partner answer a call to enter a home where blood-curdling screams speak of horrific violence. Inside the disturbing house, he encounters a strange, icy mist and something malevolent waiting just beyond view. Pratt’s confidence is shaken, his worldview smashed into tiny pieces…like shards of glass from a broken mirror.

My name is Phillipa Hilda Schultz, but everybody calls me Pippi (It’s pronounced pee-pee. Yeah, I know). I run a boarding house for people in the early winter of their lives. You know what I mean… People whose leaves are thinning, and whose lawns are slightly frosty in the early mornings. I inherited the business from my grams and had no experience running a boarding house when I stepped in.

I inherited the business from my grams and had no experience running a boarding house when I stepped in. There’s no question I’ve had my hands full. Fractious boarders, broken appliances, leaky roofs, and a very distracting next-door neighbor who makes my engine rev. (Oops…did I say that last thing out loud?) The best thing I can do for myself is to stay away from Jack Walters. He has a tendency to cloud my thoughts and turn me into a babbling idiot. Forget I mentioned him. I mean, the real problem is the dead body my plucky little blonde dachshund, Iris, found in the flower beds.

Just when I think I understand life, the Universe flings a magic booger at me. It just doesn’t pay to think you’ve got a handle on things. For example, my favorite customer, Mrs. Foxladle, got into a simple disagreement with her book club friends over their obsession with youth and beauty. The next thing you know, they’re all dead.

Come to Silver Hills. Where new friends are made and a grim reaper is born. Agnes Willard is moving into Silver Hills. She’s worried about the change and concerned about fitting in. Luckily for her, Florence Bee has decided to take Agnes under her wing. When Agnes’ cat Tolstoy escapes as they’re getting Agnes settled into her new apartment, they quickly find him across the hall, perched on a dying woman’s chest.

How in the name of the goddess’ favorite sports bra am I going to do this Magical Librarian job? I have no idea what I’m doing. And the woman who’s supposed to be training me is...well, let’s just say she’s distracted and leave it at that. I guess I’ll bumble through. It’s become something of a trademark move for me. My name is Naida Griffith, and I’m a sorceress.