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Lottawatah Twister

Lottawatah Twister

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Lottawatah Twister

103 pages
1 heure
Jul 15, 2011


Lottawatah Twister is the sixth book in the Brianna Sullivan Mysteries ebook series. A novella-length story, Lottawatah Twister continues the spooky, yet funny saga of psychic Brianna Sullivan who planned to travel the country in her motor home looking for adventure, but unexpectedly ended up in a small town in Oklahoma. In Lottawatah Twister, a powerful tornado wreaks destruction on everything in its path and stirs up some unsettled ghosts. It's up to Brianna to figure out whodunnit before the killer strikes again. Leon, the adorable and digestively-challenged bulldog, is back at the center of the action and more than once saves the day – and the beef jerky. Brianna is forced to answer a question that she's avoided since the day she arrived in Lottawatah: why is she sticking around? Lottawatah Twister has more twists and turns than a funnel cloud, with humor to make you laugh out loud and a romance that will touch your heart.

Jul 15, 2011

À propos de l'auteur

The author of Murder Off the Books and Murder Takes the Cake, Evelyn David is the pseudonym for Marian Edelman Borden and Rhonda Dossett. Marian lives in New York and is the author of ten nonfiction books on a wide variety of topics ranging from veterans benefits to playgroups for toddlers! Rhonda lives in Muskogee, Oklahoma, is the director of the coal program for the state, and in her spare time enjoys imagining and writing funny, scary mysteries. Marian and Rhonda write their mystery series via the internet. While many fans who attend mystery conventions have now chatted with both halves of Evelyn David, Marian and Rhonda have yet to meet in person.

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Aperçu du livre

Lottawatah Twister - Evelyn David

Brianna Sullivan Mystery Stories

Volume 6

Lottawatah Twister

Evelyn David

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2011 Evelyn David

Discover other titles by Evelyn David at http://www.evelyndavid.com

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. Thank you.

cover photo of dog by Jill Smith

cover photo of tornado by Bill Fehr | Dreamstime.com

Lottawatah Twister

Chapter 1

What is wrong with you? I can't believe the way you're taking on. Pumpkin is just fine at home. I have work to do.

Avoiding the dog intent on tripping me, I carried another carton from the utility closet and opened it, continuing to restock the vending machine with small packets of laundry soap and fabric softener. Leon, the English bulldog who belonged to the owner of the Laundromat, continued his pacing. He'd been in a mood ever since we'd gotten up.

My name is Brianna Sullivan. My modest claim to fame concerns my ability to see and communicate with ghosts. I'm also a darned good unlicensed private detective. Although at the moment my chief source of income is from minding the Soak & Spin Laundromat and babysitting Leon. But I have a promising ghost hunting business. Okay maybe promising isn't the right word. I've only had one job clearing a house of resident ghosts, but it paid well. My website will be up next month. I'm hoping to generate a bunch of on-line clients and give up some of these odd jobs.

Ghost hunting money is much better than the hourly rate the local police department pays me for sporadic consultant work. Plus with ghost hunting my work is respected. With my consultant gigs, the police chief pretends not to believe I can communicate with the dead, although he likes the results. He acts like I just got lucky when I solve a case. And Lottawatah's star police detective, my current love interest, would rather I get a real job that doesn't involve crystal balls and frog parts. I want to make clear that I've never used a crystal ball in my life and although I did send him on a search for a newt's eye once, it wasn't like I was going to use it. I just wanted him out of my hair for awhile. Speaking of wanting someone out of my hair....

Leon whined, leaning against my leg.

Will you relax? You're driving me crazy. I told you I didn't bring the kitten because it's going to rain. You know cats hate to get wet. My last case had left me with a healthy checking account and an abandoned cat. For some reason, Leon believed it was his kitten, not mine. I attributed his current unease to worry about the cat. In retrospect I probably should have left him home too, despite his week bladder control.

Between Leon and the weather, I had a throbbing headache right between my eyes. It was May and although the calendar still showed spring, the heat and increasing humidity felt like summer to me. For sure my hair, at best a rat's nest, at worst a Chia pet, knew it was summer. Today was particularly bad; the air so thick and heavy, I felt like I was chewing instead of breathing. I'd been in Lottawatah just over ten months and never felt anything quite like this. Apparently spring was not going to be my favorite season in Oklahoma.

Deciding subtle wasn't effective, Leon loudly expressed his displeasure with the situation.

At first his barking masked the sound of the siren.

What now?

I wasn't sure what the siren meant. Something good? Something bad? Or maybe just a test? It had only been a few months since the local feed mill had blown up and every vehicle in town with a siren used the occasion to sound an alert. For a small town in southeastern Oklahoma, the 1452 living residents of Lottawatah sure knew how to make noise. Everything from high school victorious football games to the watermelon festival parade on Main Street required blaring horns, sirens, and often fireworks.

Leon gave two more loud yelps, snatched up the oversized bath towel he used for his naps, and scurried into the utility closet as fast as his pudgy little legs would carry him. He wasn't crazy about sirens either.

I walked to the front door to see what was happening. The large plate glass windows at the front of the Laundromat were rattling. I didn't think the noise from the siren was that loud! Something else was going on.

As I opened the door the rain arrived. Torrents of the wet stuff filled the air and fell from the awning over the doorway in a solid sheet of liquid. I was blind to anything beyond the sidewalk. The siren was still sounding, a modulating echo that had lasted too long to be a test.

Before I could process the thought that this was one monster of a thunderstorm, ice pellets started battering the sidewalk and me. I could hear the pounding of the marble-sized chunks despite the continued wailing of the siren. Hail. It was a hail storm.

I stepped back inside and stood next to the bank of windows, longing for a handful of aspirin and some caffeine to wash them down. The diet soda I'd had for lunch had long since worn off.

The rain wasn't coming down quite as hard now. Away from the awning, I could see midway across the street. It was only around 4 pm but the skies had darkened, the small amount of light filtering through the menacing clouds had a strange green tinge.

Suddenly the wind picked up, blowing the hail against the cars parked alongside the curb. A metal trash can banged on the pavement as it slid down the street as though under its own power. Torn shingles and tar paper tumbled after it. Someone was going to have a roof needing repair before this storm was over.

The Laundromat door slammed open and before I could do more than process that Cooper Jackson, the detective I told you about earlier, was here and yelling, the glass from one of the windows near me shattered. I instinctively ducked.

Cooper grabbed my arm and dragged me half-off my feet as he propelled us both to the back of the building. I couldn't understand what he was saying or what he wanted. I couldn't hear the siren anymore. There was a roaring filling the room. Something was coming and it wasn't anything good.


The utility closet smelled of bleach, Tide laundry soap, Old Spice, and dog. Cooper had pushed me into the corner next to the mop sink where Leon had already taken up residence buried under his favorite towel. Tall shelves filled with supplies lined the walls of the small room. Cooper pulled one of them down across the closed doorway, littering the floor with jugs and boxes. At that moment I knew two things. One, I was going to be cleaning up a mess. And, two, he didn't trust the closed door to keep out whatever was coming.

What's happening? I think I shouted the words, but the noise from outside was so loud I couldn't even hear myself.

He didn't respond, but he did wrap his arms around me. The walls around us seemed to be breathing. Inhaling. Exhaling. Ripping sounds. Something was hitting the door over and over.

I closed my eyes. Was this the end of the world? I felt Leon crawl onto my lap, dragging his towel with him. It was

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