Beechwood Harbor Ghost Mysteries

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 ten, it turns into an all-consuming disaster. Being plagued by needy ghosts twenty-four/seven is one thing; being harassed by a horde of curious-or worse, grieving-flesh-and-blood people is an entirely different circus. I mean really, who wants to hold an impromptu séance in the middle of the cereal aisle? Not me, and the manager of the grocery store probably isn't too crazy about the idea, either. So, that's it. If you're a ghost whisperer, just keep your mouth shut and act normal. Ghosts? What ghosts? Now, if only I would start listening to my own advice…

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 twelve hour days, an assistant with a case of butter fingers (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. After all, it's not like they go to the Hamptons. Missing ghosts, a posthumously alimony-hungry divorcee, and a raging bridezilla. Yup, my bingo card is officially full. Can I get a prize and go home now?

Nothing spoils a vacation faster than a dead body. All I wanted was ten ghost-free days to enjoy sightseeing New Orleans with my boyfriend. I dreamed of mornings spent wandering through art galleries and afternoons listening to live jazz music. Oh, and eating beignets until my pants stop buttoning. I might as well have asked Santa for a unicorn. Within thirty-six hours of setting foot in the Big Easy, an ancient ghost warns me of a murderous spirit lurking in the city, a strip-mall psychic tells me I look pregnant (I blame the beignets) and, oh, yeah, a dead body shows up on the set of my boyfriend's TV show and he lands himself at the top of the suspect list. If this karma, I must have been an ax murderer in a previous life.

This bundle includes books one, two, and three in the Beechwood Harbor Ghost Mysteries series. The Ghost Hunter Next Door: Scarlet knows the first rule of being a ghost whisperer: don't tell anyone. Being plagued by needy spirits is manageable, but dealing with curious-or grieving-living people wanting impromptu séances in grocery stores is a whole different problem. She's learned to keep her mouth shut and act normal around the living. Now if only she'd start listening to her own advice when it comes to staying out of supernatural trouble. Ghosts Gone Wild: There's never a good time for a ghost crisis, but it's particularly inconvenient during wedding season. Between twelve-hour days, a clumsy assistant, and tourist crowds, Scarlet is barely hanging onto her sanity. All she wants is three months of peace from the spirit world. But when local ghosts start going missing, she has to investigate. Between vanishing spirits, a posthumously money-hungry divorcee, and a raging bridezilla, her bingo card is officially full. When Good Ghosts Get the Blues: Nothing spoils a vacation faster than a dead body. Scarlet wanted ten ghost-free days in New Orleans with her boyfriend: art galleries, jazz music, and endless beignets. Instead, within thirty-six hours she's warned about a murderous spirit, told she looks pregnant by a strip-mall psychic, and watching her boyfriend land at the top of a suspect list when a body shows up on his TV show set. If this is karma, she must have been an ax murderer in a previous life.