Murder by the Seashore

(A California Bookshop Mystery)
Cozy Mystery
1st in Series
Setting – California
Crooked Lane Books (October 17, 2023)
Hardcover ‏ : ‎ 256 pages

Perfect for fans of Jenn McKinlay and Ellery Adams, Scarlett Gardner’s dream was to open a bookshop in Southern California, but it soon becomes a nightmare when she finds the dead body of a customer—and becomes the prime suspect.

Southern California is where dreams come true—or so Scarlett Gardner thought. When she moved there and opened the Palm Trees and Page Turners bookshop, she thought her boyfriend and business partner would be part of the story. When he leaves her for a better job, Scarlett finds herself struggling to keep her new business afloat. That’s not the only thing she has to worry about—she discovers something underneath the pier by her bookshop that she didn’t outline for her life’s story: the dead body of a book-buying customer.

After Scarlett gives a statement to the police, she thinks her life can go back to business as usual. But when a lawyer, representing someone named Lorelai Knight, tells Scarlett that she now stands to inherit a small fortune, she’s left with more questions than answers. Before she can make sense of any of it, the police bring her in for questioning; the body she found was Lorelai Knight. And the evidence they have against Scarlett doesn’t look good. Business is booming as Scarlett returns to Palm Trees and Page Turners, but for all the wrong reasons – curious tourists don’t want books, they want a glimpse of the Bookshop Killer.

Who could really be behind all of this? And why frame Scarlett? To clear her name, she’s going to have get creative—and hope she can remain one page ahead of the killer.

Purchase Links:
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I arrived earlier than usual at Palm Trees and Page Turners, since I hadn’t gotten my typical breakfast chat time with Lucia. I parked my car in the spot closest to the beach, and the quiet morning waves lapping on the shore seemed to call to me. I headed inside to toss my lunch in the minifridge in the back before going right out for a short morning walk along the beach.

I swapped my regular glasses for my prescription sunglasses and breathed in a deep breath of the salty air. Instinctively, my smile spread, an automatic reaction to my love of the ocean. I’d spent almost my entire life living inland near Phoenix up until about six months ago, when I’d moved to start Palm and Page. But even though I hadn’t grown up in a beach town, now I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. The ocean was a part of me. My favorite vacations had always been the ones where my parents would pack our minivan full of beach balls, sand buckets, and water floaties and we’d spend the week at a seaside motel creating sandcastles and chasing the waves.

A few morning surfers sat among the soft swells, though it didn’t look as if they would catch anything big just yet. Only a gentle breeze ruffled the top of the water. If you weren’t a surfer, though, it was an absolutely perfect day. The beach was filling up with people staking their claim along the sand, and I set out to weave my way through laid-out towels and sun umbrellas.

My feet sank in the sand, and I wished I’d worn flip-flops instead, but those would be murder to my feet by the end of the day, so comfy sneakers it was. I planned right then to keep an extra pair of flip-flops at work for impromptu beach walks like this one.

A sea gull cawed loudly near my ear, startling me from my daydreaming. My mind had wandered, and I’d started thinking aimlessly about the gorgeous water beside me, completely forgetting about the busy day ahead. I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket to check the time. Nine twenty-five. I spotted the Oceanside Pier ahead and decided to turn around there.

The pier was Oceanside’s most famous landmark. Every tourist, and probably every local, had a photo of themselves on the pier. I had to admit it was an elegant, though rustic, structure, with its tall lampposts lining either side of the deck. It was something out of a storybook at night. Very romantic. The memory of my first date with Connor after I’d moved to Oceanside to be near him popped into my head. After dinner, we had wandered down to the end of the pier, where he’d kissed me deeply, surrounded by the ocean.

Now I rolled my eyes. Had he already known he would break my heart a few weeks later? Had he already gotten the job offer and been keeping it quiet? I tried to convince myself I didn’t care, but I was lying.

I’d reached the pier and was about to spin on my heel in the sand to head back to Palm and Page when something pale sticking out near the rocks underneath the pier caught my eye.

Was that a . . . hand?

No, it couldn’t be. That would be something straight out of one of Lucia’s horror movies.

Still, my stomach turned slightly as I inched forward into the shadows, and my palms started to sweat. I tried to convince myself I was being ridiculous, probably working myself up over nothing. It had to be a piece of garbage or driftwood or something.

Ugh. It was a hand.

I was going to be sick.

The hand was attached to an arm, and that arm was attached to a body slammed against the rocks. A woman, from what I could tell, whose light-colored hair was pasted across her face, damp and tangled with seaweed. Her navy-blue capris and yellow top were crumpled and covered in crusty sand.

I screamed and scrambled backward out from the shadows. My arms started flailing, and I was about to take off running down the beach.

My frantic thoughts paused as I realized running was probably not the best course of action for someone who’d innocently stumbled upon a body. I needed to call the police.

I could handle that. I’d call the police, and then I’d freak out.

I came to a stop and plopped down in the sand, unsure if my feet would be steady enough to hold me while I made the 911 call.

Samara Yew is a cozy mystery author who writes about adorable bookshops and dead bodies. A full-time mom, full-time dog servant, and part-time writer, Samara lives in British Columbia, Canada, where she can often be found watching Psych reruns. Samara loves to travel, especially visiting her husband’s home country of Singapore or donning Mickey ears in Disneyland. She’s a member of Sisters in Crime and International Thriller Writers.

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