Tying the Noose
July 7th, 2021. Filed under: Wednesday's Wonders.
| Marriage? It can be absolute murder Superstar celebrity wedding planner, Felicity Philips has an event to run on a private island this weekend. With a stunning landscape as their backdrop and an architectural masterpiece for their venue, it’s the perfect setting … … for a murder. After the nightmare of last weekend … oh, and the one before that, Felicity was hoping for things to run smoothly. However, an unpredicted storm cuts them off from the mainland before all the guests and staff can arrive. That’s a big enough problem for a person trying to impress a prince. But when a guest is found hanging from the rafters, it becomes clear there is a killer in their midst. Can Felicity employ Buster the bulldog and Amber the cat to help her again? Aided by her loyal assistant, AKA her ninja niece, Mindy, the team of four have no choice but to solve their way out of this one. |
ISLAND BREEZES
Felicity Philips (aka Patricia Fisher, Jr) can’t seem to get a wedding to go off smoothly. That’s not good for a wedding planner of high profile weddings.
It’s the day before the big wedding and she already has two murders on her hands. Talk about putting a kink in plans.
It doesn’t get much better, or even better at all. It’s a good thing she has her niece Mindy and her two pets, Amber and Buster to help her out. Much to Felicity’s dismay Vince, a PI, also puts in an appearance.
Thank you, Mr. Higgs, for another delightful series. I’m looking forward to another Felicity Philips book.
***Book provided without charge by the author. ***
When Steve Higgs wrote his debut novel, Paranormal Nonsense, he was a Captain in the British Army. He would love to pretend that he had one of those careers that has to be redacted and in general denied by the government and that he has had to change his name and continually move about because he is still on the watch list in several countries. In truth though, he started out as a mechanic, no not like Jason Statham, sneaking about as a contract killer, more like one of those greasy gits that charge you a fortune and keep your car for a week when all you went in for was a squeaky door hinge.
At school, he was mostly disinterested in every subject except creative writing, for which, at age ten, he won his first award. However, calling it his first award suggests that there have been more, which there have not. Accolades may come but, in the meantime, he is having a ball writing mystery stories and crime thrillers and claims to have more than a hundred books forming an unruly queue in his head as they clamor to get out.
Now retired from the military, he lives in the south-east corner of England with a trio of lazy sausage dogs. Surrounded by rolling hills, brooding castles and vineyards, he doubts he will ever leave, the beer is just too good.