Jane Ladling Mystery

She suspects everyone of everything. Sometimes she gets it right. Jane Ladling is the sole proprietor of her family's landlocked cemetery, Garden of Memories. She's responsible for the, er, guests, but there's a slight problem. Well, besides her moody cat, Rolex, and her sixty-two-year-old best friend's unrequited crush on the sheriff. An extra body now rests in Plot #39. Enter Special Agent Conrad Ryan. He's gruff, he's gorgeous, and oh, yes, he kind of suspects her of murder. What's an innocent-and very single, not that it matters-girl to do? Solve the crime herself. Even if she must turn the small town of Aurelian Hills, Georgia upside down. The only line she won't cross? Falling for the first man to make her heart flutter. Nope, not happening. Not even a little.

She suspects everyone of everything. Now, everyone suspects her. For cemetery owner and world's best fur-mom Jane Ladling, death is her business, romance is her misfortune and suspicion is her passion. When she discovers a fresh body on her porch, she calls Special Agent Conrad Ryan, her smoke-show of a boyfriend, who isn't actually her boyfriend. Whatever. It's complicated, especially now that she's being framed for the murder of the only "hard-hitting" journalist in the small town of Aurelian Hills, Georgia. Determined to clear her good name, Jane dives headlong into following the clues––with best friends Fiona and Beau at her side. But can she identify the killer before she goes to jail? Or worse… there's another victim?

She suspects everyone of everything. Except her oldest friend. Who's found next to a body. Holding the murder weapon. For the first time, things are just right for cemetery owner Jane Ladling. Her cat only kind of hates her sort-of boyfriend, Special Agent Conrad Ryan, and she isn't flat broke. When she's asked to host a murder mystery fundraiser for the people of Aurelian Hills, Georgia, she's totally on board. Champagne, intrigue, and community? Yes, please. Then game night happens, and a fake murder turns into a real one, leaving her mentor and knitting buddy Fiona at the top of the suspect list, with her best pal Beau a close second. Oops? Jane's not about to leave the fate of her loved ones to, well, fate. On the hunt for clues, she turns the small town upside down. As scandalous secrets surface, a single truth becomes clear: if she doesn't solve the murder fast, Jane will be the next victim.

Jane Ladling presents the perfect fail-proof recipe to spice up the holidays. Or ruin them. Baker's choice! Mix a murderous cat with a goofy corgi. (Ignore any hissing. That definitely probably means the two ingredients are blending amazingly well.) Then add a landlocked cemetery allegedly peppered with gold-stuffed coffins. Whisk in a gravekeeper convinced a family curse forever dooms her to lose any man she loves. Marinate with a ridiculously charming special agent whose muscles and lopsided smile make her forget said curse. Toss in a pinch of mystery courtesy of an old, coded treasure map and crank up the heat. Broil, baby! If no one dies, serve with a smile. If they do, smile wider. And maybe, just maybe, Jane can solve a series of bewildering clues, end the curse for good, and finally find her own happily ever after. Or not.

Jane Ladling told her side of the story. Now Special Agent Conrad Ryan tells his. Welcome to Aurelian Hills, a small town rich in history and community, and six feet deep in murder. When a local playboy doctor is found dead in an unearthed grave, Conrad is on the case. But this loner by choice is ill-prepared for the cemetery's quirky owner. A beautiful brunette with a curious nature, a fascination with cats, hats and a talent for distracting him. Doesn't help when she, well, tries to help, and constantly inserts herself into the investigation. With suspects stacking up, wild theories flying and a would-be amateur sleuth giving him a run for his money, Conrad must do what he does best. Buckle down, piece together the evidence and save the day. What he won't do? Fall for the enchanting gravekeeper. Not him. No way.