Blueberry Muffin Murder

Начало книги

Hannah Swensen awoke to a curious sensation. Her body was warm, but her nose felt like an icicle. She sat up in bed, reached out to snap on the light, and stared at the little puffs of moisture her breath left in the air. No wonder her nose felt so cold! The furnace had gone out again and Lake Eden, Minnesota, was smack-dab in the middle of a February cold snap.

"Moishe? Where are you?" Hannah glanced around the bedroom, but her feline roommate wasn't in any of his usual places. There was no orange-and-white cat nestled in the cushioned depths of her laundry basket, the top of her dresser held only its usual collection of books, and the windowsill with its view of the bird feeder was bare. There was, however, a good-sized lump in the middle of her bed.

Hannah stared at the lump for a moment. It was too small to be one of her pillows and too large to belong to an errant sock. She lifted the covers to find her feline roommate curled up in the middle of her bed, soaking up the warmth from her electric blanket.

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